


Popping Pointe

by MadMadamMims



Category: EXO, SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23676184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMadamMims/pseuds/MadMadamMims
Summary: Jongin decides to give his heart to dance, which would prove easy, until he meets Taemin.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai & Lee Taemin, Kim Jongin | Kai/Lee Taemin
Comments: 40
Kudos: 32





	1. The Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read this story before, it will be slightly different. ^^ It's getting a six year overhaul, tiny details that made no sense before will be tightened up and made easier to read. Overarching story line is exactly the same. And this will include the long awaited epilogue to wrap it all up. If this is your first time, this was written over several years starting in 2014, so you may see some old faces. 
> 
> Please Enjoy <3

The little raven haired boy watched his older sister with curiosity-filled eyes. Simply fascinated, he braced his hands against the end of the bed rails and leaned forward on his bent knees to get a closer glimpse at the spectacle below. His oldest sister sat on the floor of her bedroom with her long legs spread out impossibly wide, wearing opaque white tights and an overly large cropped sweater that hung lazily off one shoulder. 

"First, we bind," she instructs as she grabs the tape sitting beside her. 

The little boy cringes a bit at he watches her spread a long piece of white tape over a fresh-looking bloody wound on her big toe. He's even more taken aback when she shows no sign of discomfort. "Doesn't that hurt?"

The older girl on the floor glances up threw her lashes at her apprehensive little brother sitting on the bed. She lets out a wistful sigh as she resumes taping a few more toes. "Of course it hurts."

Utterly perplexed, the little boy sits back on his heels and pouts. He taps the fleshy protrusion on his upper lip with the tip of his finger and furrows his brows as he attempts to make sense of it all. ". . .but Noona-"

The older girl halts his words and glares up at the younger boy. "Don't tell me you're ready to back out," she accuses.

Stunned by the sudden harshness in his sister's gaze, the little boy nervously blinks as he tries to come up with a good excuse. ". . .Um," he stutters. 

"You said you wanted to learn, right?" she demands.

He nods furiously. 

She points the roll of tape at him. "You said you were going to work hard, right?"

He swallows, ". . .yes."

His sister gives a curt nod of approval and resumes the taping of her toes. "Good, because this is nothing. If you want to be the best at something you have to work harder than anybody else. Now, tell me again why you want to learn Ballet."

The little boy looks down at his nervously clasped hands. "Well, I want to dance."

"Why? Why do you want to dance?"

This time the little boy doesn't need to think about it. He meets his sister's eyes with honesty and resolution. "Because it's something I love."

His sister smiles and nods as she beckons him to sit next to her on the floor. "Come, and bring the lighter from the bedside table."

The little boy scampers across the room to join his sister on the floor.

The older girl grabs one of the shiny satin pink slippers laying next to her and holds the toe towards her little brother. "Go, on. . .light it," she urges. 

"But we just bought them today!" The little boy exclaims, absolutely horrified at the idea of well-earned money going to waste on a damaged purchase.

The elder puts a finger against her lips and leans in conspiratorially towards the younger. "Best kept secret, if you light the toe on fire, it helps to soften up the tips. Prevents injury, especially with brand new shoes."

The little boy's eyes widen as he takes in her words. He nods slowly and holds the lighter with both hands. He flicks the wheel with his thumb, sending a spark against the flint and setting the toe of the slipper aflame. 

They silently watch the slipper's satin finish disappear until the elder removes it from the flame and replaces it with the other one. Once both slippers are burned to satisfaction, the little boy watches his sister place her taped feet inside the slippers and tie the laces. In an instant, she is on her feet, and in another, her feet go completely vertical, the tips of the slippers balancing perfectly on the floor.

The elder looks down lovingly at her younger brother. His beautiful brown eyes gaze up at her in wonder and awe as if he's never seen anything so magnificent. His mega-watt smile that almost takes up his whole face could light up any room. And she knows, that with time and practice, he will be the one with all eyes on him someday. Because there's a fire there; brimming, smoldering, ready to burst at the seams, and it's mixed in with raw talent and a strong, unwavering heart.

"Remember Jongin, when it comes to something you love, your body can take the pain."

**Ten Years Later**

It was a typical freezing day in January. The wind was a little harsh at times but the sun was out. Jongin didn't mind, though, he enjoyed the fresh air. He loved long walks on unmarked paths towards unknown places. The freedom of chance and the mystery of encounter could be thrilling, almost like a dance. 

But unfortunately, today was not one of those excursions. For he had a meeting with a goddess. 

He stopped walking once he saw her.

She stood, facing the sun, her hands reaching out gracefully towards the sky as if beckoning an angel to come and take her away. Her face was the usual mask of serene beauty with slightly downcast eyes and a somberly sweet smile. 

His eyes traced the lines of her silhouette from the planes of her face to the tips of her toes. He sighed. The bottoms of her slippers were dirty; caked with dirt and debris. He figured it must have been from the rain yesterday.

He flicked his raven-colored bangs out of his eyes and walked up to her. He presented her with a beautiful bouquet of pink roses and even conjured up a smile, for her sake mostly. He hoped she wouldn't see through him. See the cracks that were slowly spreading.

Feeling the dreaded and familiar tight prickly sensation rise, he cleared his throat. "Hello Noona," He greeted.

His deep voice coated the air like sweet honey on fresh toast. Even the wind momentarily stilled upon hearing its rich timbre. 

The beautiful boy stood awkwardly in front of the goddess before him, not knowing how to start or where he would end up, but he knew at least, why he was here.

He started to smile again, as his words came to him, "I made it, Noona. This time. . . I actually made it." He paused and looked down, his words coming easier now. "You remember when I failed the first time. I was seriously ready to give up." 

Jongin's eyebrows twitched in discomfort and his dark brown eyes glazed over as he recalled the past. "That day. . .was a really bad one for me, but . . . maybe not the worst day I've ever had." His eyes flicked suddenly to glare at the goddess in front of him. They brimmed with sadness and were hooded with the heaviness of judgement.

But even so, Jongin was forgiving. He quirked a single eyebrow, even slightly managed to smirk in her direction as the sarcasm rose in him before he could stop it. "I suppose my worst day was yours as well." 

The goddess before him stood silent, still, and emotionless. His words seemingly falling on deaf ears. She wouldn't congratulate him. She wouldn't run up to him, a smile beaming on her face, and wrap her arms around his form. She wouldn't tell him how proud she was of him or how she always knew he could do it. She wouldn't berate him with questions about his classes or go with him to pick out new clothes.

And she would never see him actually perform. 

Because she was always here. She never left this place. No matter how much he begged her to, or how much he wished. She was forever facing the sun, stuck mid-dance, which is exactly how she would have wanted it. He hoped at least. 

Made of concrete and carved by hand, the statue before him was in the image of a beautiful young ballerina. The goddess of dance.

Jongin's tears dripped down his face in wild abandonment. He fell to his knees in front of his sister's grave and angrily brushed the dirt and debris off the statue's slippers. His long fingers became dirtied as well as his nice pants, but he couldn't care less as he choked back a sob.

He frowned as he recalled that he used to shout at her grave, demanding why she left him. Why she had to go and die. Why she had to leave him alone. Why, why why? It just wasn't fair. But even thinking such thoughts made him feel so wretchedly guilty, he vowed he wouldn't do that anymore. He wouldn't yell at her. She didn't deserve that. He harshly wiped his swollen eyes against the wool sleeve of his coat and sniffed loudly. He looked upwards towards the overcast sky above. His sad eyes searching and desperate, but in the end he shook his head and let out a joyless laugh. He threw a stray rock to the side and moved his bouquet of pink roses to rest next to the statue's feet instead. Pink roses to match her pink slippers. He stared at his sister's name engraved on the tombstone in front of him. 

"You said before. . ." he started, his voice cracking and slightly hoarse, "that my body could take the pain. . . and you were right. But Noona . . ." he paused, his brows creasing as another set of tears escaped his eyes and his pouty lips trembled around his words. "But Noona. . . what about my heart?" He whispered.

And it was on that day, that Jongin got accepted into an elite school for the performing arts, and on that day two years prior, that Jongin's eldest sister died.

But more importantly, it was on that day, that Jongin decided the only thing he would ever love would be dancing.

Because his heart simply couldn't take the pain of losing someone he loved.


	2. Something New

There's a coffee shop next to the Performing Arts School that Jongin attends. The atmosphere is cozy, and they sell cheap bread biscuits that Jongin finds he can't stand, but somehow still shoves them into his mouth hungrily after hours of dancing and even longer without a proper meal. He knows he should eat better. 

"Yo, Jongin." 

He doesn't notice the presence of his friend until a large hand slaps him on the back. He winces at the harsh contact, his muscles still sore from overuse. He sends a glare in the direction of the tall, thin boy with pale skin and rainbow-colored hair.

"Your parrot-looking hair looks dumb," He says gruffly and looks away.

The other male sends a glare right back, his face never one to show too many expressions anyway, much like his tanned companion, but responds, "There's something you gotta see. Come out with me tonight."

Jongin shoves the last bite of fish-shaped bread into his mouth and shakes his head. Mouth still full, he moves out of his seat. "Can't. Have to practice."

The other boy rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on, don't be so boring. You're the best, blah blah blah, there's nothing to worry about."

Jongin casts the boy a sideways glance. "The showcase tryouts are soon."

The other boy scoffs. "Re--lax," he drawls, "It's not for another week. You call that soon?" 

Jongin frowns and looks down. Is there really enough time? Considering he hasn't gotten his routine down. _No_ , he shakes his head. He can't waste time playing around. Not when nothing seemed to fit exactly what he wanted to show. He'd been through hundreds of different styles, his mind wandering through various choreographies, and they were all missing something that he just couldn't figure out.

"Sehun-ah!" A soft voice rang out and Jongin finally lifted his head. He watched the shorter, baby-faced male skip over to Sehun and wrap an arm lightly around his shoulders. The boy's doe eyes fell onto Jongin and he seemed startled for a moment. "Oh!" The boy looked at Sehun. "Did you ask him?"

Sehun crossed his arms and stared coldly at Jongin. "Nah, Luhan, he's boring. We don't need his company anyway."

The shorter male's eyes widened in surprise and then turned to Jongin again. "But it's a dance competition! Lay said there's some really talented dancers competing."

Jongin's brow quirked at the words **dance** and **competition**. He inclined his head towards the other two boys to indicate he was listening. 

Sehun eyed the tanned male with amusement. If anything could sway the normally overly-focused and at times too-serious Jongin it would always be dancing. In the two years he had known the other boy, he knew a couple things. Jongin was widely known at their school, not only for his amazing talent, but for his brooding good looks as well. He was like a movie star, yet he didn't seem to realize it. He slaved for hours until his movements were perfect and precise, all the while ignoring the adoring eyes of girls and boys alike. It always confused Sehun as to how someone so popular, talented, and seemingly perfect, could sit all alone in a coffee shop with the most solemn expression. What was it that made Jongin so passionate on the dance floor yet so flat once his body stopped moving? 

"So. . .you gonna go?" Luhan prompted and snapped Sehun out of his thoughts.

"I dunno know, he might be scared. There could be someone there that dances better than him," Sehun challenged with a single raised brow.

Jongin smirked. He didn't feel the need to brag about his talent. He knew he was good. But he also knew that he could be surpassed. That's why he worked as hard as he did. But he supposed it would be interesting to watch instead of be watched for a change. "Sure. I'll go."

Luhan beamed and took out his phone. "Lay says the spot is on the other side of town. A trendy club, so dress casual."

"A club?" Jongin questioned, his smirk instantaneously disappearing. He was not impressed.

"Just wear jeans and be ready to go in thirty minutes." Sehun said and ushered the two boys out of the coffee shop. 

"The other side of town" might as well be on a different planet. Small, shabby homes lined the pot-hole ridden streets. Tied sets of shoes hung from the power lines and music blared from a tiny blue house on a corner lot. 

The groovy bass and funky beat of Michael Jackson's _Billie Jean_ blasted through the teen's room. So loud, he could barely hear the banging on his bedroom door. 

"Taemin-ah! Turn it down!" His brother shouted.

_Shit_ , the boy on the bed shot up quickly and ran over to the old stereo on the floor. "Sorry Taesun!" He called back, his voice light and fluttery like the wings on a butterfly.

The door of Taemin's bedroom creaked open. "Are you going out tonight?" Taesun asked, arms crossed and eyes knowing. 

Taemin sighed restlessly and pulled his long brown hair into a pony tail. "Yep," he replied back lightly. 

"You need me to go with you?" Taesun pressed, coming into the room and sitting down on the bed.

Taemin met his older brother's concerned eyes and smiled. "Of course not, don't worry," he said and went and sat next to his brother on the bed.

Taemin's older brother stared at his younger brother. Their body structures were similar. Both tall and thin, but Taemin was thinner to the point of frailness, and that always pulled at the elder's heart. Taemin's face was different too. Double-lidded eyes that curved beautifully, high, full cheekbones and a smile that made you forget to breathe. To put it simply, Taemin was too pretty for his own good.

"Oh! Taesun, guess what!" Taemin excitedly prompted, his small hands grasping the elders lightly. "I found the perfect present for mom's birthday. Just you wait."

Taesun frowned. Mom's birthday wasn't for weeks. "What is it?"

Taemin beamed. "Well, I was at work the other day, and there's a regular customer that comes in often. She always smells really nice, so I asked her why and she told me that she knows this really fancy shop that sells specialty soaps and fragrances. They even have those tiny little bottles, you know that hold little things I guess," he laughs and continues in a rush, "anyway, those little bottles are really pretty. So I want to buy one for mom, once I have enough money." Taemin finally finished. He took in a deep breath and felt satisfied. 

"Taemin-ah, nothing too expensive, you know mom wouldn't want you wasting money on something unnecessary. And I certainly don't want you skipping meals again."

Taemin's smile faltered for a mere second before he was shaking his head and relieving his brother's worries. "I told you not to worry. I'm gonna win that competition tonight. There's a really great cash prize!"

Taesun sighed. He ruffled his little brother's light brown hair and stood up from the bed. "Alright. Just be careful."

Taemin smiled. "Ne~" he responded playfully.

Thirty minutes later, four drop-dead gorgeous boys walked into a dance club on the other side of town. The music blared against the black walls painted with graffiti of all different colors. The floor, also black, was crowded with bodies dancing, standing, or simply parting to make way for the boys that were so obviously not from around here. 

Dressed in dark skinnies, an old pair of sneakers without socks, a simple black button up and a dark cap to cover his face, Jongin moved through the crowd, intent on getting a spot closest to the stage. Regardless of what image he as trying to portray, none of the girls that eyed him were that stupid. The boy was tall and lean, his well muscled thighs and perky butt perfectly outlined in tight pants. Broad shoulders and long arms that looked like they could give you the best bear hug ever. He was quite a vision, as he moved around people with a graceful confidence that left a mysterious cockiness to the air in his wake. 

Jongin wasn't bothered by the stares. In fact, he didn't even really notice them. He kept a safe distance to his three other friends and they all found their way right in front of the stage, waiting for the show to start. Jongin didn't have any great expectations for what he was about to see. Actually, right when he saw the outside of the club, and Lay mentioned it was a "street-style competition" he mentally face palmed. He should have stayed back on campus to practice. Typically, street-style simply meant, untrained and unrefined. What exactly was he supposed to get out of that?

But the lights dimmed briefly only to spotlight the stage. Suddenly a boy with platinum blonde hair and tight white skinnies came prodding towards the center of the stage wearing army boots and holding a silver encrusted microphone. The sounds of the crowd could be considered deafening as the squeals of hundreds of girls echoed throughout the club. Probably at the fact, that said boy on stage wasn't wearing a shirt, his broad chest and muscled abs outlined in tattoos of various sayings scattered all over his glistening torso. "When I say Jong, you say Hyun!" He greeted the rowdy crowd by starting a ping pong of shouts back and forth. 

"Jong!"

"Hyun!"

And so forth until he began describing the competition that consisted of ten dancers with a grand prize of a whopping $500 dollars. 

Sehun scoffed. "Kinda cheap aren't they?" He yelled to Luhan who smirked and clapped along with the crowd. 

The first four dancers were pretty bad, in Jongin's opinion. Then there was one guy with blue hair, a clear favorite, as the crowd easily screamed louder when he appeared.

"Hey, doesn't that guy go to our school?" Luhan asked.

Jongin couldn't place him. Although, he didn't pay much attention to others to begin with. The guy was a bit showy, playing up to the screams, even taking off his shirt mid-way through the routine. But his movements were sloppy, his reflexes slow. Jongin decided, the boy might be a good performer but he lacked rhythm and raw talent. 

The next girl came out and unsuccessfully tried to sexy-dance her way to first place. 

Five minutes and a broken high heel later, Jongin almost felt sorry for the girl as she unevenly limped off stage amidst the brutal cackles and boos from the crowd. 

Sehun was cracking up, almost falling over as he clutched onto Luhan's jacket.

Jongin wasn't amused. He had had about enough. "I think I'm gonna go." 

But Lay grabbed his arm. "Wait, the next dancer, you have to see," he said.

Jongin sighed. He politely turned back to the stage as the next performer came on. 

The crowd for the first time that night was moved to silence as the spotlight shone on a single figure on stage.

Jongin frowned.

The music started to filter out from the speakers and the dancer on stage came alive. Taemin twirled around and faced the crowd, the light shining against his pale skin and highlighting the dark smokiness of his eye make-up. He started moving to the quick beats of the music as the bass and treble took turns in the song like a thunderstorm; a lightning strike here, a boom there, all the while surrounding him in a tunnel of white noise. And if there was anything that Taemin loved more, it was dancing in the rain.

Jongin's jaw dropped. His eyes were captivated by the moving figure. 

"Oh, she's pretty," Sehun whispered.

Lay smirked.

Jongin watched long, impossibly thin legs covered in black leggings move in ways that weren't humanly possible. It was as if the dancer's boot clad feet were merely floating atop the floor. But at the same time, while fluid and graceful, the beautiful lines of a dancer's body evident, the intentions were harsh, the movements too quick. Everything was steady and calculated, just like Ballet, yet this wasn't anything like it. This was something entirely different. 

_This was something new._

Taemin didn't see the people in the crowd. In fact, he barely heard the music. His routine was memorized by heart, his movements the most important thing. He was slightly bothered by the overly long sleeves of his shirt, it being one of Taesun's hand-me-downs, but he wouldn't let something like that interfere with his performance. Eyes focused ahead, his arms popped from one angle to the next, his chest convexed, then concaved in quick repetitions like the beating of his heart. He ended on the last beat of the bass, legs together and one arm raised, like a bull fighter.

The music ended and the lights went out, but nothing but silence was heard.

Taemin bowed, even in the dark, as he blinked and choked on ragged breaths. He had spent months on that routine. Countless hours of practicing movements by himself in front of the bathroom mirror. He had spent what little money his part-time job paid him and bought the shiny pair of black leather boots that adorned his feet. It had taken a little extra money for the shop to order ones in a smaller size to fit his dainty feet. Which he hated by the way, but although small, just like the rest of him, Taemin was powerful and his feet were strong. Of course be it him to be distracted in his own mind, while still bowing awkwardly on stage. As the lights rose, so did he. He glanced around the room quickly before giving a shy smile and exiting the stage.

The only sound resonating through the club once the dancer was gone was a simultaneous exhale from the crowd followed by wild cheers and claps. Jongin and company being among the loudest.

"See! I told ya," Lay said smirking at Jongin.

Jongin couldn't help it. He actually smiled back. 

The rest of the dancers waiting to compete might as well have just gone home, for they were like toddlers compared to Taemin. And after all was said and done--as expected--Taemin came in first place, merely being announced as "Dancer Number 5", but he didn't care. He walked dazedly out of the club's back door, holding $500 in his hands and feeling on top of the world. Unfortunately for Taemin, although talented and very-much deserving, his older brother had been right to worry for him.

"Hey you!" 

Taemin turned around sharply with a frown. "Me?" He asked pointing to himself, confusion clearly splayed on his face.

The other dancer with the blue hair, the crowd favorite, stood before him with two other tall males. "You were pretty good," he said through hooded eyes as he moved closer to Taemin.

Taemin felt an uneasy shiver run through him as the blue-haired male's eyes scanned him from head to toe. He wasn't good with strangers. Taemin looked away and forced a polite smile. He hesitatingly responded with a timid, "Thank you," and bowed. 

"Hey, hey why so formal?" The other male said, sliding an arm around Taemin's slighter frame. "My name's Jae." 

Taemin blinked rapidly as he felt the other's arm encase him like an animal in a cage. "Oh...r- right. Hello my name is-" he stuttered, but was cut off when Jae grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to look up into his. 

"God damn you're pretty." 

Taemin's eyes widened and his lips parted as his breath hitched. He wanted nothing more at this very moment than to disappear. "Uh-um. . . thank you," He said looking down and trying to squirm his way away from the other male, but Jae merely tightened his grip.

"Look, the thing is, I owe somebody some money, and even though I have plenty, I'm not too happy at the fact that you beat me."

Taemin froze. He instantly knew where this was going. He was going to get robbed. 

"I had planned to just take the money," Jae continued, his voice dropping an octave. He slid another arm around Taemin's tiny waist, his hand sliding under the hem of Taemin's shirt and lightly brushing against the soft skin of Taemin's lower back.

Taemin let out a sound that was a somewhere between a strangled cry and a garbled squeal as his hands rested atop of Jae's trying to still there movements. He was in trouble. He wasn't only going to get robbed.

"You'll be good for me, won't you?" Jae whispered into Taemin's ears.

"Treat the _lady_ nice now, Jae," his friends laughed as they began to walk away.

Taemin panicked, not wanting to be left alone with the man currently groping him. "W-wait! I-I'm not a girl. I'm a man!" He shouted.

Jae's arms became like vice grips. One hand came up to cup Taemin's face and tilt it back up. "And?"

Taemin stared at the taller, stronger boy with a helpless expression. He supposed he should be used to this by now, what with his feminine features, long hair, and thin body. He didn't even realize what the added effect of eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss could have on his already gorgeous face, but he only did it for the performance. Dancers have to put on a show, they have to look the part.

Taemin was brought out of his thoughts when his body was roughly slammed into the brick wall of the building. Jae's eyes stared at him before looking down at Taemin's flat chest. Jae frowned and raised both of Taemin's arms above his head. 

"Wait, please stop," Taemin pleaded, no match to fight off this guy. He could only struggle and clutch the money in his right hand tightly. 

Jae pulled Taemin's shirt up, revealing smooth, milky white skin, and the cutest little tummy ever. The blue-haired boy was about to put a hand down Taemin's pants when the back door of the club opened and four boys came out. All heads turned immediately towards the whimpers to their right. 

Jongin froze. There under the street lights was the dancer from before, being held roughly by the showy blue-haired boy and practically exposed.

"Hey!" Lay shouted. "What are you doing?"

Jae looked over quickly at the interruption and recognized their faces. "Shit." Panicking, he punched Taemin hard in the stomach, snatched the cash out of his hand and ran off down the street. 

"That son of a bitch stole the money!" Sehun shouted before he and Luhan took off in a sprint after the boy.

Taemin, however, crumpled to the ground like a life-less doll.

Lay ran over and crouched next to him. "Hey, are you ok?" He asked softly, trying to assess for any other injuries.

Taemin looked up wearily, but couldn't speak as he clutched his stomach in pain.

"Alright, let me go get you something," Lay said and motioned for Jongin to stay with the injured boy.

Jongin nodded mutely and moved to stand near the dancer he had been spellbound by mere minutes before. Lay disappeared back through the door of the club and they were left alone on the street.

The night air was warm and the stars were out. It could be considered peaceful if they weren't in such a rough neighborhood.

Jongin crouched down next to Taemin and hesitantly laid a hand on his shoulder.

Taemin flinched from the contact and Jongin retracted his hand. "Sorry," he mumbled and took off his cap. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and felt like he was being weird.

Taemin looked closer at the boy with the deep voice. "No, it's ok. I'm sorry," Taemin said, his voice finally coming out evenly, "Thank you."

Jongin looked surprised and quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

Taemin smiled and leaned back against the wall of the building, feeling tired yet oddly calm. He shrugged. "Just for being here," Taemin whispered.

Jongin frowned and looked confused for a few moments before glancing back up at Taemin's face. "Um, you're a really good dancer."

Taemin smiled brighter. "Thanks."

Jongin shook his head. "No, I mean like really good. Who did you train with?"

Taemin raised his eyebrows at the boy before him. "Train with?" He asked back and laughed. "Mmm. . . my trainers were Michael Jackson . . . and Chris Brown--before he was cancelled."

Jongin laughed, like actually laughed which surprised himself. It came out hearty and felt long overdue even to his own ears. "You're funny."

Taemin smiled feeling a blush tint his cheeks. No one ever thought he was funny. It kind of made him feel nervous though. He swallowed and bit his lips taking a glance at the boy in front of him.

Jongin was looking away from Taemin, in the direction his friends had run, after the other boy. 

Taemin frowned, his apprehension growing. He crossed an arm over his stomach and clutched his elbow self-consciously. "Um. . ." He started and Jongin turned back, settling his deep brown eyes upon him. Taemin couldn't look the boy in the eyes. "I'm feeling better now," Taemin said softly. "You. . .you don't have to stay with me if you don't want to." Taemin finished and shyly glanced back up.

Jongin should look away from the pretty eyes shyly looking up at him, but he couldn't. It's not like he'd never found someone else attractive before, he just never found himself in such close proximity to someone _this_ attractive. And certainly not someone who could dance way better than he could. Jongin felt inspired to turn on a little charm. He leaned in confidently towards Taemin. "I'm not gonna leave a damsel in distress."

Taemin's eyes widened and his expression immediately fell. _Of course._ He was always being treated like a girl. He should have expected that. He looked down, knowing his eyes were clouded with disappointment, but he wasn't one to feel sorry for himself. He laughed awkwardly and smiled a little halfheartedly despite the clench in his chest. He had wanted to appeal more to the boy than with just his face, but... how? This guy seemed genuinely friendly and kind. No need to mention he was beautiful. But Taemin wasn't good with strangers after all.

He blinked a few times before starting, "What's your name?" 

"Eh?" Jongin was lost in thought, wondering if he had made a really dumb joke. A mix of strange emotions had scattered across the injured boy's face. Was he offended? 

"Your...name?" Taemin prompted again.

Jongin shook his head and laughed again at how slow he was being. "Oh, sorry, uh. . . Kim Jongin," he said and extended his hand.

Taemin straightened his back the best he could since his stomach still hurt like hell and beamed. He placed his hand in Jongin's larger one. "Lee Taemin," He replied, "Nice to mee-"

But at that exact moment, Lay returned with a cloth filled with ice and Sehun and Luhan came running over out of breath and laughing. 

"Here you go," Lay offered.

"Sorry it took so long," Sehun panted and handed Taemin his prize money back. 

Taemin smiled, trying to ignore the fact that Jongin hadn't let go of his hand. "Thank you all so much, really. I'm really sorry to have troubled you."

Sehun smiled back, not missing the grasped hands between Jongin and the pretty dancer. "Well, we better get going, it's almost curfew," he said, nudging the tanned boy with his foot. 

"Ah, that's right," Lay agreed.

Jongin blinked, still repeating Taemin's name in his head. He had absolutely no idea why he was suddenly so utterly and inexplicably relieved and overjoyed at the same time. He heard the exchange between the others. They needed to leave.

Jongin suddenly tightened his hand around the tiny one he held.

Taemin gasped, looking at Jongin with confusion. _What was it?_ Taemin tried to take his hand back, but Jongin only held on with both hands this time.

"Iwantyoutoteachme," Jongin breathed, his words coming out in a jumble.

"What?" Taemin asked.

Sehun raised a knowing eyebrow towards Luhan and Lay. 

Jongin felt his eyes widen and a slight sweat break out on the back of his neck. He felt nervous again for the first time in a while. "Um," He started again, looking down. "Would you. . .could you teach me to dance like you?"

Taemin's lips parted. He didn't know what to say. This boy wanted him to teach him how to dance? Was he feeling ok? Taemin blinked a couple times and so did Jongin. 

They both found themselves laughing nervously at the other as there hands finally separated.

"Um, I guess so?" Taemin finally offered, clutching his warm hand against his chest.

Jongin beamed. "Yeah?"

Taemin shrugged. "Sure?"

"Ok. Um, give me your number," Jongin said pulling out his phone. 

Taemin felt flushed and confused, almost dizzy from the sporadically changing events. He had won the dance competition. He had been robbed and slightly assaulted. He had met some really friendly boys and now this Kim Jongin wanted his number? Good thing he had a cell phone!

"Oh! Sure!" Taemin said, moving forward to grab his phone out of his back pocket. 

They exchanged numbers and Jongin helped Taemin to his feet. "Are you gonna be ok if we leave?" Jongin asked.

"Oh, yeah!" Taemin waved off. "I'll call my brother to come and get me," he said with a reassuring smile.

Jongin looked a little hesitant but nodded all the same. "I'll call you tomorrow." 

Taemin continued to smile as he waved the boys off. He called Taesun and waited inside the club with the ice on his belly for his brother to pick him up. He looked down at his phone that now read more than three contacts. Mom, Dad, Hyung, and Kim Jongin.

He wouldn't tell Taesun about what happened. He didn't want to worry the elder. So when his brother arrived, he smiled through the pain and excitedly showed him his prize money. Taemin just smiled because he always smiled. It was easier that way. So even if everything that happened tonight had just been mere chance and everyone was just caught up in the whirl-wind of events, he would be ok with it. If Jongin got home and completely regretted giving out his number to a total stranger, he would be ok with it. He didn't expect him to call, really. No one ever called when they said they would, but that's ok.

If he never saw the boy named Kim Jongin ever again. . .

Taemin frowned. 

He would be ok with it, because after all, he still had dancing.

Dancing would never leave him, would always love him, and best of all, _it was free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you are re-reading this, yes I took out the cliched 'mistake Taemin for a girl' because it's obvious he's not and reading it back now it's too cringe hahaha ><
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3


	3. Something a Little Special

The next day, Taesun stood in the kitchen waiting for the timer to ding on the rice cooker. 

"Has anyone seen my phone?" Taemin called from his bedroom. 

Taesun frowned. "You didn't leave it at that dance thing, did you?"

Taemin shook his head before diving underneath his bed, shoving CDs and an old pair of sneakers out of the way. "Dang, I know it's here somewhere," he whispered to himself, before backing out and thunking his head on the bed frame. 

"Taemin-ah, what are you doing? You're going to be late!" His mother yelled as she came into his bedroom.

"Ow..." Taemin whined as he rubbed the side of head.

"Good lord! Since when did we turn your bedroom into a landfill?" His mother cried as she tried to step over various items scattered all over the floor of Taemin's bedroom.

Among the piles of clothes, books, crumpled pieces of paper, pens and pencils, half-eaten bags of chips, empty cartons of milk-in almost every flavor-, and even a whole piece of jerky stuck to the bottom of a shoe, Taemin figured his phone was somewhere deep in that abyss. 

He sighed and bit his lip. He could ask to borrow his mom's phone but it wouldn't really do any good, Jongin only knew the number that he gave him last night. Not that, _that_ was the reason he needed his phone or anything. 

"Taemin-ah, when you get home today you need to clean up this room before you even think of going out," His mother warned.

"But Umma, I have to work today!"

Taemin's mother stared down at her youngest son. His beautiful long hair that she loved so much and forbade him to cut was nothing but a grease ball of tangles. And the smudges around his eyes made him look more tired than he actually was. He clearly hadn't showered from the day before. She often felt at a loss of what to do with him. He was incredibly troubling and difficult, yet too precious to punish. She sighed and crossed her arms. "Tomorrow then. Promise me, Taemin-ah," she said trying her best to send him eyes that said she meant business.

Taemin beamed. He scampered across the floor and hugged his mother's legs. 

She patted his head in return. "I know, I know. Now get to school! And wash this hair when you come home tonight!"

"Yes~" Taemin replied.

And with barely a spoonful of rice in his mouth before he was out the door, Taemin practically sprinted the whole 7 seven blocks to his Public High School.

A tardy bell later, Taemin felt like he was making the walk of shame to his seat. He kept his eyes trained on the floor as he trudged his way to a vacancy near the back, so he could sleep without getting caught. For Taemin, it wasn't the school work that was the problem, in fact, he was actually quite the model student. It was more so his peers that he just couldn't seem to agree with.

By the time lunch rolled around, Taemin was in the courtyard, earbuds in and dance-mode on. He always felt the most comfortable when the breeze was in his hair, the sun was on his face and his limbs could move as if they had a mind of their own. He wasn't purposely skipping lunch like his brother had implied, he simply didn't bring any food and didn't want to waste time standing in a long line just to get some gross piece of fishy bread. He'd just hit up the convenience store before work. Besides, if he had any free time whatsoever, Taemin spent it dancing. He had stayed up late the night before, still a little high after the strange events that had taken place after the competition and ok mostly because of Jongin. Either way he had spent hours surfing the web for dance videos. He came across the craziest video of a guy that was moving in such a way it looked like the video kept stopping and starting. It was really cool, so Taemin decided he would definitely incorporate it into his next dance performance. He found the move actually rather simple really. He raised his arm quickly only to dramatically pause, and then moved it again followed by another dramatic pause, until the arm laying by his side made it all the way up over his head. He figured he would call it the broken robot.

So lost as he was in his choreography, Taemin missed the incoming soccer ball by a mile, not until it him square in the face, launching the thin teen clear off his feet.

It hit him quickly, but he felt like he was moving in slow motion, almost like he was having an out of body experience. The world started tilting until it just stopped and everything went black, until he opened his eyes and simply saw the bright blue sky above. He didn't know what had happened. He just knew he couldn't hear the music anymore. And he could slightly register that someone was shouting at him. 

"Hey! Hey, you ok? Come on, say something!"

Taemin blinked, his eyes trying to focus on what he thought was some kind of amphibious creature leaning over him. "Are you real?" He mumbled.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

All Taemin could seem to come up with was, "Frogs?"

The boy asking the questions laughed and Taemin blinked again. He shook his head and looked back up into big eyes, a small face, and a friendly smile. Taemin realized the boy in front of him wasn't the only one laughing at him though, and immediately felt stupid. He looked down at his body splayed awkwardly on the ground and quickly moved to right himself.

"Hey, be careful, you might have a concussion," The boy said, his hands coming forward to grasp onto Taemin's shoulders. 

"Might have knocked some sense into him," a girl in the gathering crowd teased.

"Doubt it," one of her friends offered, earning giggles from all around.

The boy looking at Taemin with concern started to frown. He took his hands off Taemin's shoulders, turned and stood to face the crowd. 

Taemin's eyes traveled from muddy soccer cleats, to socks covering very long and thin legs, to green shorts and a matching jersey, all the way up to a slender neck and a head full of brown wavy hair. Taemin's eyes widened at just how tall this dude was. Maybe a little taller than Jongin though? Taemin shook his head. He needed to focus.

"Hey come on, what's with that?" The tall boy questioned the rude girls.

The best-looking girl among the giggling group raised a single brow and crossed her arms.

"Don't be fooled by that pretty face, Choi. He's nothing but a whore."

Taemin almost choked on his sudden intake of breath, the crowd around him gasping in horror as well. This felt mildly like the beginnings of some very terrible B-rated teen movie. Just great, he thought. He started preparing to run from this scene very soon. 

"That's enough. Stop being so hateful," The boy argued in Taemin's defense.

Taemin visibly cringed as he started backing away from the boy. He felt really sorry and silently wished the taller boy hadn't felt the need to fight back for him, considering he didn't know Taemin from Adam. And of course the boy's words only further angered the girl, who Taemin mentally noted must be stalking him, for she frowned and stomped her heeled foot against the ground. "Hateful?" She practically spat, throwing a delicate hand towards her chest as if she was offended. "I'm just telling the truth!"

Taemin scrunched up his face and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for what he figured would come next. Please don't say it, please don't say it, he chanted inside his head.

"I know for a fact he works at that one gross ass gay club downtown. You know, the one that uses traps to seduce straight guys. Who knew the awkward little nerd was actually so loose?"

Ok, really? Taemin thought, still a bit dizzy but able to stand on his on two feet. For some unknown reason, could have been the ball to the face, Taemin reacted. Taemin fought back, or at least, he tried.

"Hey!" Taemin found himself shouting. "First of all, it's a very clean gay club, ok? Cleaner than your mouth, that's for sure!" 

The girl laughed, while that Choi guy turned back around and eyed Taemin with big shocked eyes. 

Taemin was about to make his second point when he realized he had maybe kind of outed himself to a very large crowd. Which, was something Taemin had never thought of before.

"See! I told you Minho!" The girl screamed.

Taemin quickly recovered, remembering who he was and where he was and then he paled and covered his mouth with both hands. "Oops," Taemin mumbled and then ran off to hide in the nearest bathroom stall, only cursing himself later for leaving his iPod and headphones behind.

But thirty minutes after that, Taemin found himself in the guidance counselor's office trying to explain the frenzy of rumors that had spread like wildfire around the school.

_Lee Taemin works at that sleezy gay club downtown._

_Wait, you mean that scrawny kid that doesn't talk to anybody?_

_He's having sex with strangers for money?_

_Ew, who would do that?_

_But with that face. . ._

_Wait, was him being a gay a secret?_

"Taemin, you're a good student. Surely, these rumors are false." The older man tried, feeling as if Taemin couldn't be anything more than the angel he seemed.

Taemin pressed his hands together and offered his apologies. "I'm really sorry for causing so much trouble, this is all a misunderstanding. I needed a job to make money, and the club is owned by my cousin's family. He asked me for help. And, I only help with serving the guests. Really. I-I've never-"

The counselor held up a hand to silence the nervous teen. "It's ok, I understand. But maybe you should find a different job, son. I know this isn't some fancy private school and we have no right to dictate your personal matters, but this could get messy if a bunch of concerned parents get involved. You understand?"

Taemin nodded helplessly before he took his exit. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur until Taemin found himself racing through the red-light district towards the nicest, in his opinion, gay club in town. The walls were painted a shiny gold, and the floors were carpeted in a lipstick red. Everywhere you looked, there were gorgeous men and women scattered all around multiple circular tables and cushioned booths. Drinks in hands and smiles all around, the only noise Taemin could hear were the cackles of old ladies as they laid down more money.

"Oh! Is that little Taemin-ah!"

"Taemin-ah, won't you come sit with Noona?"

Taemin smiled and bowed towards the regulars as he made his way towards the back. He stood in front of a single black door with a giant gold star in the middle, and took a deep breath before entering.

"You're late! I need you to help with service at tables four and five." The black haired male sitting at the desk didn't look away from the pink-bejeweled mirror he held in front of his face. 

"But Key," Taemin whined.

Key moved the mirror a fraction and glared at his cousin behind hazel-colored contacts. Uncrossing his distressed jean-clad legs, he stood and beckoned the squirming younger boy towards him. "Come here."

Taemin obediently went to Key's side and was stunned to find his face being cupped with both of his cousin's hands. 

Key's glare only got worse as he examined the nasty purplish-green bruise dotting the skin around Taemin's left eye. Key's hands moved to Taemin's bony shoulders where he shook the injured boy. "Who did this to you? Tell me. I swear, I'll cut a bitch for laying hands on this perfect face."

Taemin gasped in shock before he chuckled and took Key's hands from his shoulders and held on to them tightly. "I got hit by a soccer ball." 

Key tsked and rolled his eyes. "Jesus, you scatter brain."

"I know, I know and I lost my iPod too, but Key! One of the girls at my school I guess found out. . . about me working here. My counselor suggested I find another job because... you know, this place doesn't exactly have the best reputation. But that's what I told them! I said it was super clean, and I know i'm putting you in a bind, but I don't know what to do, I need a job," Taemin gushed, all panicky. 

Key sighed. "That bitch. Great, now I'll be short-handed."

"Hey, but what about me?" Taemin pouted.

Key eyed his cousin. Dirty hair, mascara stained eyes, bruised skin, wearing a raggedy old t-shirt -at least two sizes too big- and grey sweats. "Taemin-ah, what are you, homeless?"

Taemin looked at Key like he was crazy. "What? Hyung, you know perfectly well where I live."

Key burst out laughing. "Oh forget it, what about the dancing, you've been getting good money from that, right?"

"Yeah, but it's like once a month, and the money last time was way more than usual. I still need to be able to help my mom out what with my dad being AWOL and all."

Key crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well, I guess you can't work here forever. Call Jonghyun, he was saying something about some coffee shop his sister's brother's cousin owns or who knows what. "

Taemin brightened. "Oh! Really?" 

Key shrugged. "Sure, give him a call."

Taemin ran a bashful hand against the back of his neck. "Ah, actually, I kind of lost my phone. And. . .I don't even know his number."

Key flung his hands in the air, completely done with his silly cousin. "Figures." He chuckled as he sauntered in diva-like fashion back to his desk. 

"Do you know it?" Taemin asked, hopeful.

Key chuckled again as he grabbed his phone off the desk. "Do I know it? I know everybody that's anybody in this town," He replied, dialing the number and handing the phone to Taemin.

A few rings later and the familiar voice of the muscly, platinum-haired MC came over. 

"Yo Keybummieee~ What do I owe the pleasure?"

"JJong! No, its me Taemin. Do you know anywhere hiring?"

"Huh, Taemin? Wait! Work? Here?! Hahaha. . . look, your brother gives me enough shit as it is for not keeping an eye on you at all times while you're here."

"No, no I can't trade one club for another that would kind of defeat the purpose. Anyways, Um. . . I can't actually _make_ coffee, but Key said something about a shop or something. Maybe I can like wash dishes? Although i'm not really good at that either..." Taemin sighed, feeling defeated.

Jonghyun frowned on the other line. He kind of had a soft spot for his friend's cute younger brother. "Hey, cheer up, I'll make a phone call and see if they need any help." 

Taemin almost dropped the phone. "Really?" He practically squealed. 

Jonghyun laughed. "Really, but no promises, just a phone call. You still have to be interviewed and all that."

"Ok ok, I get it. Oh my gosh, thank you so much!"

And with that, Taemin gave his farewells to a few of the regulars and hugged Key goodbye and helped out a bit until it was well past eleven at night. He practically danced the whole way home, feeling lighter than air and hopeful about the future.

Take that ugly rumors! Not that those would actually stop, but it was better than nothing.

By the time Taemin crept into his house, his mother was already asleep. He quickly showered, making sure to wash his hair twice and got into bed. With a sigh, Taemin stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and then suddenly felt like he had forgotten something. He sat up in bed, frowning. He locked the front door right? He didn't leave the shower water running did he? Wait, did he have homework? Taemin shook his head. _No, that wasn't it._

Suddenly, very quietly, Taemin heard the shrill of a cell phone. _His_ cell phone.

Taemin's heart rate dramatically accelerated. As if he had seen a bug, Taemin jumped out of his bed and dove across the floor until he found the ringing phone inside one of the half-eaten bags of chips. "Hello?!" He breathed.

"Taemin-ah, it's me."

Taemin's face fell instantly at the sound of Taesun's voice on the other end of the line. _Ah, that's what he forgot._

"Jjong called me earlier about this coffee shop you're wanting to work at, I really hope you get it. I think it'll be good for you."

Taemin blinked a couple times and felt utterly stupid for the millionth time that day. What had he been expecting? He rubbed a shaky hand through his wet hair and managed a wry smile. "Thanks. Me too," He whispered. 

"Hey you ok? I'm almost off work, but don't wait up for me. Get some sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow."

Taemin shook his head. "It's nothing, really. I just. . . I forgot myself for a split second, you know?" He laughed, embarrassed and bitter sounding even to his own ears. "I've always been a little bit stupid, huh?" And he laughed again but this time he knew he was just forcing it. And Taesun knew as well.

"Taemin-ah, please don't worry yourself, you're doing just fine. You know I love you, right?"

"Of course."

"Get some sleep. You'll feel better tomorrow."

Taemin nodded and hung up. He stared at the phone in his hands. No new calls.

He squeezed the phone, wishing he had enough strength to just break the damn thing. But of course he couldn't. He rolled his eyes at how pathetic he was being. He tossed the phone on the floor carelessly and crawled back into bed. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day. Maybe tomorrow would come and the day after that and Taemin could just forget the truth that Jongin didn't call like he said he would. Taemin knew he wouldn't call, he really did, but it still hurt all the same. He had just hoped, for a split second that maybe this time it would be different. Maybe this time someone would want to get to know him? Sure he had his family and his cousin. He had even had some pretty good talks with Jonghyun on a few rare occasions, but these were all just circumstance and pleasantries. Forged by blood, marriage or friendships of other people. But then, the more he thought about, it made sense really. After all, no one just instantly befriends some random stranger that they only helped out because they're a decent human being. And that's all it was really. Just a simple misunderstanding. Just a random guy who stayed by his side, even though he probably hadn't wanted to. And even after that, with him asking for dance lessons and exchanging phone numbers?? I mean what even was that?

Taemin frowned and stared lifelessly at nothing. The phone number Jongin gave him was probably fake. That whole thing was probably just one big fat joke that _Jongin_ was laughing about with his friends right now. 

_Did you see the look on that guy's face when I asked for his number?_

_Yeah, you would think it was like no one had ever asked for it before._

_Dude probably has no friends. He was kind of weird._

_Psh, what a total loser._

Taemin felt his face starting to crumple, he was so pathetic.

But didn't Jongin compliment his dancing? Didn't Jongin say he was funny? Was it all one big lie? Taemin's eyes started to burn so he closed them and tried to ignore the pit in his stomach that made him want to throw up what little food he had eaten that day. _How come everything in life couldn't be as easy as dancing was? Was that just a little too selfish to wish for?_

He should be happy with what he has. But, sometimes, he just wished it would be ok to hope for something more. To hope for something a little special.

* * *

Three days later, Taemin refused to believe he had almost been disappointed again when his phone had rung and it hadn't been Jongin. Because it was Xiumin, from the coffee shop, wondering if Taemin could come by for an interview. 

If Taemin could describe what kind of anxiety he was having at finding something decent to wear, it would be like a rat stuck in a box looking for cheese, only every time the rat almost got the cheese, mad scientists would shock it with electricity. Taemin paused and started to panic. Maybe he really was too weird for a normal job.

"Taemin-ah, Kibum's here!" Taesun shouted from the living room.

Taemin's eyes widened and he let out an excited chirp before running out of the room. "Key! Please help me!" Taemin flung himself at the elder, grabbing him by the hands and dragging him into his bedroom, before so much as a hello was uttered.

Key almost died the moment he took a look around Taemin's room. "You've got to be kidding me, your mother must be at her wits end with you." Key flicked Taemin's forehead and huffed before he bent down and started sorting the clothes from everything else on the floor.

Taemin just stood there smiling. He couldn't believe Key could come over and help him. He knew his cousin was super busy so he was beyond thankful. He would definitely make it up to him, he decided. "Hey, if you really help me and I get the job. I'll get you all the free coffee you want." Taemin smiled devilishly.

Key glared at Taemin from his spot on the floor. "Yah, who taught you how to bribe?"

Taemin laughed. "Duh, _you_ , silly!" 

Key smiled. "I thought so. You gotta' deal. Now start sorting through all these damn clothes!" He shouted.

It's simple really, Taemin just doesn't have the patience. Key dressed Taemin in nice black slacks and a dark blue button up that really made him look more mature. He combed his hair and tied it back into a simple ponytail, and then retrieved some make-up from his bag.

"Don't make me look like a girl!" Taemin cried, fighting Key off as he tried applying concealer.

"Yah! Watch your tone, I'm your hyung! Now sit still, I'm trying to make you look refined instead of like you just got beat up!"

Taemin rolled his eyes, yet relented. "It was a soccer ball."

Key paused a second before applying the second coat. "You're not lying to me, right? Taesun thinks you're getting bullied at school."

Taemin's eyes widened in shock. "What? Does this look like a face that would lie to you?"

Key pursed his lips together and flicked Taemin on the forehead again.

"Ow!" Taemin cried.

Key sighed and moved Taemin's hands out the way so he could grasp the smaller boy's face. He began applying the second coat of concealer. "Just promise me, you'll say something if you're having a problem, ok?"

Taemin looked down, wondering if he should tell Key about what had happened at Jjong's club, after the competition. But what good would that do? It's all over now isn't it? Jongin didn't call, you idiot. Taemin didn't understand why he couldn't get over it or why it still hurt his chest whenever he thought about it. But sometimes he wondered what was so wrong with him that made people not want to be his friend? Probably his over-analyzing nature. 

"Ok, done," Key said sitting back and observing his masterpiece. He instantly smiled and clutched Taemin's cheeks. "Aigoo~ My baby looks so grown up," He cooed.

Taemin chuckled and shoved the elder lightly. "Oh stop, you'll make me blush," He teased right back.

And with that, Taemin let go of any negative thoughts. They would have to wait for later, perhaps for when he didn't get the job, but for now, he would think positively.

* * *

Three days.

It had been three whole days and Jongin still couldn't get the moves right. He tried popping his arms, he tried moving in a robot-like fashion, but it was like his body was simply conditioned to do the complete opposite. His intentions were always not sharp enough or just too delicate. It was driving him absolutely crazy. Not to mention, keeping him up all night. And whenever he did actually sleep, he dreamed of Taemin's body- dancing on stage that is. He could see it clearly, as if the skinny boy had been struck with an electric current. From the tips of fingers to the bend of his elbows, all the way through his shoulders and neck until it shimmied down his entire length in waves. And he could make out every gyration, every frenetic movement of Taemin's body, as if the boy really had something moving inside it. It was incredible, it was totally insane, and it was really really frustrating. Jongin could think of not much else as he walked to class with wide eyes and completely zoned out. He even managed to bump it to a girl by accident, causing her to drop a book. 

The girl in question just about had a heart attack when she realized who exactly she had just bumped into. Kim Jongin, who more specifically, one of the best Ballet dancers at their school. He was dressed in the tightest pair of black spandex she had ever seen which made her wipe her mouth just to make sure she wasn't drooling. Her eyes continued to feast on legs like that of a thorough-bred horse; strong, hard, and thick. Which, coincidentally enough, also adequately described the barely concealed bulge currently staring her straight in the face.

She licked her lips unconsciously before jerking back in surprise as Jongin bent down and picked up her book.

He wordlessly held it out to her.

She retrieved the book with nervous hands and gazed adoringly into Jongin's dark brown eyes that were slightly hooded. She couldn't help it, this boy just screamed sex and she was starting to feel super hot and bothered by it. When he looked at her like she was dumb, though, she snapped back into reality and shyly thanked him. 

He didn't respond, just shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and walked away, but in her heart of hearts she swears he smirked at her. Which is exactly the story she told her best friends as soon as she got to class.

Sehun arrived at his Intermediate Lyrical Adaptation class and spotted Jongin in the back near a window. The boy was sitting down at a desk, yet his eyes were glazed and his arms and legs were moving. He could practically count the beat in his head as he watched Jongin move in tandem. He shook his head. Placing his hand around the back of the Jongin's neck he bent down and whispered, "Give it up, kid, you'll never get it."

Jongin jerked away, punching his rainbow-haired friend in the gut before scowling and mumbling a lame, "Shut up."

Sehun laughed and slid easily into the seat in front of his tanned friend. He laid his head on Jongin's desk and raised an interested eyebrow. "Yah, what's the deal? Can't stop thinking about a certain pretty dancer?" 

Jongin's face remained expressionless as he stared coldly back at the boy.

Sehun frowned. "Oh come on, why the face? You guys schedule your first lesson yet?"

Jongin's eyes darkened immediately and he looked away with a sigh. "No."

Sehun's eyebrows soared in surprise. He had meant to be teasing, but Jongin actually looked upset. He thought his friend had been absolutely smitten by the other boy, the guy had been freaking gorgeous, so who could blame him, but. . . Sehun frowned and then went wide eyed. "He turned you down?!" Sehun screamed.

Jongin's eyes were deadly as he quickly covered the other boy's mouth with both of his hands. 

But he didn't deny it either, Sehun noted, finding it completely unbelievable. _Someone had actually denied something of Kim Jongin? Was the world coming to an end?_ Sehun removed Jongin's hands and shook his head. "Wow, I like this kid even more now."

Jongin sat back feeling extremely bothered. "Whatever," he mumbled and turned back towards the window.

Sehun let the topic go, but after that Jongin never really seemed to snap out of it. He decided he'd wait and meet up with Jongin after Ballet, a class in which always left the brooding teen in high spirits. Unfortunately, when the time rolled around Sehun was dismayed to find Jongin being cornered by their ultra-nerdy and super strict dorm leader, Suho. Sehun grimaced and quickly turned around to flee after his eyes accidentally met said leader.

"Ah! Sehun-ah! Not so fast," Suho called and Sehun scrunched up his face at being caught. He turned around and walked lazily towards the other two boys.

"Yes, hyung?" Sehun asked in a totally bored tone.

Suho smiled sweetly at the bratty younger and held up the newest revision of the dorm rules he had painstakingly re-written and managed to bulk up a few dozen pages. "We need to have a meeting. A few other of your dorm mates have put in some complaints that I need to discuss with you both."

Sehun looked to Jongin for a plan on getting out of another boring lecture, but unfortunately Jongin just obediently agreed and asked them to wait for him to grab his bag. 

Once Jongin disappeared, Sehun tsked and mumbled angrily to himself. "He's been a pain all day. I can't believe he's acting all gung-ho about this." 

Suho flicked the younger on the head with the tip of his pen and went into full lecture-mode. "Yah! Sehun-ah, unlike you, Jongin knows the importance of following rules and keeping his grades up. After all, he's here on scholarship, he simply can't afford to fool around." 

Sehun was again surprised. He figured Jongin's parents were loaded just like every other snob at their school. It kind of made him feel bad about giving him shit for the cheap fish-bread he always ate. "Sorry, hyung. I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Jongin questioned, just returning.

Suho brightened and threw both arms over the taller boys' shoulders. "I was just telling Sehun-ah that I was going to treat you both to coffee and snacks during the meeting." 

"Seriously?" Jongin and Sehun asked in unison.

Suho squeezed Sehun's shoulder.

"Yehet~!" Sehun shouted, the exclamation carrying a mixture of excitement, confusion and surprise, but convincing nonetheless.

The three boys casually made their way across the street to the nice coffee shop Taemin had just gotten done interviewing at.

Upon arrival, Suho quickly ushered the boys into a booth by the door and went to retrieve the coffee and snacks before they could start complaining. He didn't see anyone behind the counter, but couldn't help but notice a nicely dressed young man standing shyly by the staff door. "Excuse me, do you work here?"

Taemin heard someone address him. He twirled around only to see a familiar face.

Suho's eyebrows soared. "Taemin-ah? Is that you?"

Taemin immediately felt the nervousness drain from his body. "Hyung!" He shouted and ran towards the elder, throwing both arms around his neck and engulfing him in a hug.

"Oh, it's been so long!" Suho said, squeezing the tiny boy in his arms. "You never come to church with your parents anymore." 

Taemin cringed a bit and released his hold on the elder. He offered a smile. "I know, I'm sorry hyung," Taemin apologized.

Suho waved off Taemin's apology and smiled back. "Hey, no big deal. I guess it's not so cool anymore, huh?"

Taemin shrugged, If only that were problem. He went to church when he was younger with his parents almost every Sunday, but then his father left the fellowship and got into something super weird. He forbade the rest of the family to return to their old church but with school and work and dancing, Taemin was too busy to care. Sadly though the only person that was ever nice to him there was Suho, whom he never saw anymore. 

"Oh, what happened to your Rosary?" Suho asked, grabbing lightly onto Taemin's wrist.

Taemin sighed, _shit_. Suho had given him a properly blessed custom-made Rosary bracelet, what felt like eons ago and he totally had no idea where it went. He seriously couldn't do anything right. "Hyung. . .I. . ." Taemin couldn't look him in the eye. "I lost it. I'm so sorry."

"Hey hey, it's ok," Suho comforted, even being compelled to ruffle a hand through Taemin's hair. 

When Taemin looked back up at him with big, twinkling brown eyes and a pout, Suho couldn't help it. He had the incredible urge to make him smile, no matter what. "Hey tell you what," he said gripping Taemin's hands. "I'll buy you a new bracelet, but you have to promise me you'll always wear it, and won't ever take it off." 

And that was it. Taemin's cheekbones lifted, his eyes crinkled and his mouth spread wide into the most beautiful smile Suho had ever seen.

Xiumin, the hiring manager of the coffee shop, had witnessed the entire exchange with big questioning eyes, but didn't want to be rude and interrupt. He settled for clearing his throat, which did the trick.

Taemin paled and jumped in surprise. He smiled nervously at the manager, hoping for good news.

Xiumin had kind of wanted to tease the cute kid by dragging out his decision, but he decided against it in the end. "Congratulations, you're hired. Come back tomorrow for training."

The words were like music to Taemin's ears. He let out a squeal of delight and started jumping all around in excitement. Finally, things were going well. He couldn't believe it.

That is until he noticed a certain flash of rainbow-colored hair out of the corner of his eyes.

Taemin stilled, feeling a chill suddenly wash over him, and before he could help himself, he dashed behind Suho and peeked over his shoulder.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Suho asked as Taemin gripped the back of his jacket. 

Kim Jongin. Kim Jongin. Kim Jongin. That was Kim Jongin wasn't it?

Kim Jongin was walking towards the counter, in all his good-looking glory, and Taemin thought he might just pass out, or throw up, or pee his pants, or all of the above. 

Taemin held his breath. What could he say? What could he do? How was Jongin going to react at seeing him here, now? Would he laugh at him? Sneer at him? Ignore him completely? _That's right_ , he should just stay hidden and hope the boy wouldn't see him.

Suho frowned at the frightened kid behind him, until he looked back and saw Jongin approaching with his usual scowl. Suho chuckled. "Yah, Taemin-ah, it's just my dongsaeng from school," He said and gripped Taemin by the wrist and drug him from out behind him.

Taemin fought against Suho, even squealed a little bit, but nevertheless found himself face to face with a very shocked Jongin.

Jongin on the other hand thought he was seeing a ghost. There in front of him was the boy of his dreams. He shook his head and frowned. In his dreams, not of his dreams. What was he, crazy?

"Lee Taemin?"

Taemin was sure he was going to faint, but he managed some semblance of a smile and just decided to just go with it. Just let the other have a way out and it should be fine. "Oh, yes. Um, Kim Jongin?" Taemin questioned dumbly because of course he knew the damn boy's name, but he didn't want to seem as desperate and pathetic on the outside as he was on the inside.

"Yeah, from the other night." Jongin nodded slowly, feeling a little disappointed that the other boy had seemed to have forgotten. Jongin blinked. He was caught off guard and suddenly didn't know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair.

Taemin couldn't decipher the odd expressions that Jongin was displaying and it made him more nervous than before. He wasn't laughing at him, nor sneering at him, and he certainly wasn't ignoring him. _So what did that mean?_ Taemin griped his elbow self-consciously and bit his lip. "Um. . ." Taemin started nervously, "th-thank you. . you and your friends, for helping me out."

Jongin just stared ahead and nodded slowly. "Yeah. . .sure. No problem."

Taemin's lips trembled as he smiled. This was it, he could feel it. There wasn't anything left to say. Jongin didn't call because he simply didn't want to, plain and simple. Taemin bit his lip to keep from frowning. It was no big deal. He was fine. He was totally fine. It's just the way things are. 

"I guess. . ." Jongin started suddenly, voice low and lovely making Taemin's eyes widen as he straightened up. Jongin chuckled. "I guess you've been kind of busy."

Taemin really frowned this time not knowing what Jongin was talking about.

"I mean," Jongin paused, trying to gather his words. He massaged the back of his neck and felt downright sheepish. _Just say it and get it over with._ "I'll pay you, if that would change your mind?"

Taemin blinked and shook his head. Was he a total idiot, or had he missed something? "I'm sorry?" he said quietly, "I don't understand." 

Jongin chuckled again and pressed his palms into his eyes. He was frustrated and disappointed but either way, he supposed there was a first time for everything. And it wasn't Taemin's fault, so he smiled at the other boy and tried to bow out lightly. "I guess I should have taken the hint after calling you for the tenth time, huh?" He smirked in spite of himself. "I'm sorry for bothering you." 

Taemin was beyond face-paling and shocked gasps of air, he was surprised he was still standing at all, really. Whatever had just happened, it wasn't exactly registering, and Taemin needed confirmation. He couldn't even tell you what possessed him, but as Jongin turned to walk away, he grabbed his arm and stopped him. He stared into Jongin's eyes. Really studied them. They looked sincere, slightly even. . . hurt? _Was it not a lie? Had it not been a joke?_ Taemin swallowed and took a chance. "You called me ten times?"

Jongin frowned. "Yeah?"

Taemin couldn't believe it. He shook his head, his heart starting to beat out of his chest. "But I didn't get any of your calls."

Jongin blinked. "But. . ." He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and pulled up his call log. 

Taemin's eyes read the screen. Ten outgoing calls. _But, wait_ \- Taemin's hand flew to his mouth. 

"What?" Jongin asked with concerned.

Taemin looked at Jongin. "I-I gave you the wrong number!"

Jongin couldn't quite explain it. Everything he had just been feeling seemed to just vanish. He just. . . laughed. This guy had given him the wrong number by accident? Absolutely ridiculous, yet completely relieving. So he hadn't been turned down at all?

Well, yet.

Jongin sobered and licked his lips. He put his hands on Taemin's shoulders. "Please say you'll teach me. I've been driving myself insane for three days straight. I need your help Lee Taemin."

Taemin blinked and smiled and flushed and nodded his head rapidly. He couldn't tell you what it felt like. But it was ten times better than winning the dance competition and 100 times better than getting the new job. "I'd love to," he replied breathlessly then proceeded to actually pass out.

His eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his body went completely limp in Jongin's arms. 

Suho, who had been like a kid at the movies, suddenly sprang into action and raced over to the fallen Taemin. "Jongin-ah, what did you do?!"

"What?! Me? Nothing!" Jongin cried as he cradled Taemin's body up from the floor.

Sehun also appeared mysteriously with a smirk and crossed arms. "How is it you're able to make all the pretty ones faint at your feet?"

"Yah! Sehun-ah, go get him some water!" Suho yelled as he fanned Taemin's face with a random cafe flyer. "Poor kid, he's always been fragile since he was young." 

Jongin stared at the boy in his arms. He was just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more so without all the eye make-up. Jongin casually pushed a strand of hair away from Taemin's left eye when he noticed a very faint bruise covering the area. 

He frowned. Had that guy from the dance club done this to him?

"Mmm. . ." Suho mumbled, noticing the bruise too. "I hope he isn't still having trouble at school." 

"Trouble?" Jongin questioned, completely unconvinced Taemin was some kind of delinquent. 

Suho sighed and met Jongin's eyes. "He used to get bullied a lot."

Jongin was sure his face was going to freeze permanently in a scowl. He didn't know Taemin at all, but what he gathered so far, was that Taemin had more talent in one finger than Jongin probably had in his whole body, he was kind and a little shy, maybe slightly flighty but still really funny, and super cute. He might be fragile right now, but Jongin knew Taemin's strength. He could see it in the way the boy danced. He was something else, something completely different.

Jongin held Taemin a little bit tighter and smirked. "You're something a little special, huh?" He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the motivations make more sense now lol. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3


	4. Dreaming

Taemin felt like he was having the best dream ever. He felt safe; cushioned against a solid softness that was slowly enveloping his entire body in a sweat-inducing heat.

A large masculine hand cupped the back of his limp neck in a protective almost urgent kind of way as gentle fingers slid those tickling little hairs softly away from his face. They trailed lightly as if slightly cautious, yet lazily enough that the rough pads of overused fingertips seem to transform into the sensual lick of a tongue. Dragging, tasting, and savoring. 

And surprisingly, Taemin wasn't alarmed at the foreign touches on his body. In fact, he almost wished he could beg for more. But he was afraid. If he moved or spoke, this most amazing dream might vanish, and then he would be left empty and alone, without this feeling of being in the arms of a lover.

And much to Taemin's surprise, someone else spoke instead, "Should we call his family? He's got his phone on him, right?

"Um. . .yeah. I think I can feel it against my leg. It's in his back right pocket."

Taemin felt the blood drain from his face, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water. He went rigid. This wasn't a dream. In stomach-churning clarity, it was coming back to him now. Taemin had passed out after coming to the realization that Jongin wasn't an asshole. In fact, he was the furthest thing from it. Taemin was the asshole for even thinking such thoughts. And now here he lay, pretending to still be unconscious on the floor of the coffee shop, which happened to be his new part-time job.

Then, without warning, Jongin's hands moved to wrap firmly across the expanse of Taemin's shirt-covered back, tilting the smaller body towards himself and slightly pressing Taemin into a hug. And then there was a hand sliding into the back pocket of Taemin's black pants . . . right against his butt.

Taemin's eyes flashed open. He came face to face with Jongin's hoodie, the neck of it loose and hanging low. He couldn't help sneaking a peek at Jongin's tanned pronounced collarbones and slight hint of a well defined chest. Taemin blinked and swallowed and then clutched onto Jongin's arms.

"Oh!" Jongin cried in alarm as he felt tiny fingers dig into his bicep. 

Suho paused, hand still grasping the phone in Taemin's back pocket. "Taemin-ah, are you ok?"

Jongin looked down. Taemin was wide-eyed and flushed. He quickly loosened his grip and moved the smaller boy off his lap and onto the floor.

Suho frowned. He laid a gentle hand against Taemin's forehead. "You feel hot."

Taemin licked his dry lips. This couldn't go on much longer, he didn't think he could handle any further embarrassment. He tried to sit up.

"Hey, be careful," Jongin said, about to lay a steadying hand on Taemin's shoulder but then retracted it mid-way.

Taemin put a hand against his head, more so to cover his increasingly blushing face, and faked a groan. "I uh, . . . got hit with a soccer ball a couple days ago. Guess I haven't fully recovered," He said with a meek laugh and tried to shake off his nervous jitters. 

Suho sighed with relief, realizing the Taemin from years before was probably not the same Taemin now. "Playing too hard with your friends, huh?" He said and ruffled the younger's head.

Taemin laughed as he stood up, because Suho's words were comical, really. 

"Hey, you want me to give you a ride home?" Suho offered.

Taemin smiled. "No, no that's ok. I'm fine. . .really," He urged.

"Mmm . . . I don't know hyung, he looks a little shaky to me," Sehun chimed in, a little too urgently. 

Suho glared at the younger with disappointment, reading right through him. "I will take Taemin home. But!" He pointed. "Don't think this clears you from our meeting. I will be catching up with you both before bedtime," he warned.

Sehun let out an irritated huff as he crossed his arms and pouted.

Jongin, however, had remained silent. He hadn't even stood up yet, but Taemin refused for there to be any more missed opportunities. He met Jongin's eyes expectantly. "Um, tommorow, I can give you a call . . . when I'm done here, and then we could-"

"Oh, yeah that." Jongin cut in, his deep voice making Taemin pause.

Taemin smiled and waited for him to continue, that fluttery feeling rising in his tummy.

"No, wait!" Jongin suddenly shouted and jumped to his feet.

Taemin's eyes widened. Jongin's expression was unreadable as he held out his hand.

"Give me your phone." 

Taemin blinked rapidly, still confused. He quickly took the phone out of his pocket and laid it in Jongin's waiting hand. He tried to think of something to say as Jongin's fingers quickly got to his contact list. Would Jongin laugh when he saw that there were basically no contacts?

"Um . . ." Taemin started, embarrassed, but Jongin let out a snort a second later as he pressed the edit button. Taemin blanched when he saw Jongin deleting his number from his phone. He reacted instantly, hand darting out and covering Jongin's hand with his own. "But, why? I don't understand?" He practically pleaded. 

"What?" Jongin looked up confused, his lazy smirk slowly fading at the sight of Taemin's stricken face. He shook his head and removed Taemin's hand. "No, look. See?"

Taemin looked down. The contact was still there, just the number had been changed . . . by a single digit.

Jongin smirked again. "You put my number in wrong too."

Taemin's eyes flashed wide open as they flickered up to Jongin's face and the taller male swears he could count almost every one of the shorter's eyelashes. As Taemin let out a sigh of relief, he smiled; wide and gorgeous and so sincerely, that Jongin was thankful for that breath of air he could feel wafting in through his parted lips, because he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

And probably wouldn't have, had Suho not interrupted about getting Taemin home at a decent time. So with a plan to meet tomorrow, Jongin and Taemin parted ways.

During the ride home, however, Suho felt compelled to query the younger on the scene he had witnessed earlier. "So, Taemin-ah, you and Jongin are friends, eh? Cause I have to tell you, it's not a partnership I would have expected," He said lightly.

Taemin shrugged and smiled as he laid his head against the glass of the car window. "Well . . . I don't know about friends just yet, but . . . I hope so."

Suho smiled and nodded. "I think it's nice. Jongin needs someone like you."

That made Taemin's brow crease as he watched the street lights pass one by one in a blur. Needs someone like him? What did that even mean? Like . . . to help Jongin with his dancing? Or . . . was he struggling with his grades? Taemin was puzzled, but he didn't want to think too much on it. If he was needed, then that was a good thing, right? 

* * *

The next day at around noon, the hallways were empty and quiet. The white tile floor shined, not a speck of dirt on it. Beautiful God-rays filtered in through the numerous giant bay windows and glass cases lined the walls filled with trophy upon magnificent trophy, only displaying 1st place winners. And then with the chime of a bell, quiet became chaos and the hallways overflowed with students. In particular, one very tall student with multi-colored hair who was currently sprinting through the crowd. Scowl on his face and arms shoving random peers out of his way. He was dead-set on making it to his dorm. He took the steps two at a time, leaving him huffing and puffing, but he finally made it. Room 109, his shared bedroom with Jongin. He flung the door open and immediately rolled his eyes. The tanned dancer was butt ass naked, flung carelessly on his bed. One arm and one leg dangling over the edge, sheets and blankets a wrinkled mess on the floor. Sehun grabbed a pillow off his own bed and started hitting the other boy with it.

At first thrash, Jongin cursed and brought a lazy hand to cover his face. And then on the second, he finally sprang up, like a cat, limbs primed and eyes dead-set on his attacker. "You better start talking," He ground out.

Jongin's voice was low and hoarse from sleep but Sehun had good reason for his interruption. "Just thought I'd warn you before you heard about it from someone else." Jongin's expression didn't change, so Sehun continued, "They cancelled the showcase."

Jongin reacted to that. "What!" He bellowed, standing up from his bed, unabashedly staring at the other male, even though he was still naked.

Sehun looked away. "Dude, seriously."

Jongin cursed again before bending down and hastily sliding on a pair of low slung jeans. He zipped, but didn't button them and stomped over to the corner of the room. Snatching his grey hoodie off the floor, he turned and stalked towards the door; shirtless, sockless and shoeless. 

"Hey, wait! I didn't even tell you why!"

"Why!" Jongin yelled back, already in the hallway.

They were out the door and down the stairs before Sehun finally caught up to Jongin and pulled him to a stop by crooking a finger in the belt loops of the other's jeans. "Hyung said we're doing Spring Workshops instead."

This did not pacify Jongin. He jerked his body out of Sehun's grasp and kept stalking through the crowded hallway. 

Meanwhile, the voices around them started to grow. From a squeal here, to frenzied whispers there, it seemed slowly but surely, everyone was starting to take notice of a very sexily bed-headed and shirtless Jongin moving through the crowd like a wild beast. The light trail of hair peeking out from his unbuttoned jeans was like a blinking runway leading down to the jumbo jet that was set to take-off in his pants, because of course Jongin had a case of morning wood. After all, he's been having some interesting dreams lately. But aside from that, it's all jutting, deep v, hip bones that makes toes curl and tongues salivate, and a long tanned torso with lightly muscled abs-

"Oh, Jesus! Why'd you even bring the hoodie if you're not even gonna wear it!" Sehun shouted.

Jongin blinked and finally took notice of his state of undress, since clearly the burning eyes and not-so-discreet cat calls were not enough of a giveaway. He roughly pulled the hoodie over his head and continued walking until he got to the main office building.

Aside from his role as Dorm leader, Suho's family was also one of the biggest boosters, which means he knew things that others didn't and he could also pull strings where others couldn't. 

Jongin stalked up to the door to Suho's office and knocked hard. "Hyung, it's me, Jongin."

Sehun leaned against the door and crossed his arms. He raised his hand casually and examined his fingernails before letting out a haughty chuckle.

Jongin glared. "Why are you so annoying."

"Hyung's not here. He took the day off to go shopping," He replied smugly. "Of course you would know that if you just chill out and let me talk! But no, the mighty Kim Jongin does whatever he wants." Sehun huffed.

Jongin felt like he was going to pull his hair out. Or choke the boy standing in front of him. "Fuck," He muttered. 

"Yah, watch your mouth."

Sehun's eyes went wide as saucers as he looked over Jongin's shoulder and immediately side-stepped away from the door. "Oh, Sorry Seonsaengnim!" 

Jongin's eyebrows soared as he heard the name. He turned around when he heard a snicker, eyes landing on a smiling Lee Jinki, head of General Admissions and also in charge of transfers, scholarships, and attendees. The newly blonde elder was wide cheeks and a big smile as he was flanked by two also blonde yet towering males. Taller than Jongin and Sehun, which said a lot. 

Sehun was quicker to judge than Jongin, just because Jongin was too into his own head to bother with others. But the two unfamiliar males were dressed head to toe in designer labels probably totaling the cost of one semester's tuition, and they were clearly trying to flaunt it. The taller of the two, held no expression as his eyes sized them up, but the other, with the dark panda-like under eye circles . . . the one snickering behind his hand, Sehun already didn't like him.

"Tao-ssi, Kris-ssi . . . these are some of our best students," Jinki said as he ushered them forward and made both sets of boys greet each other. "This is Kim Jongin, one of our best dancers." 

"Oh, really? I'd like to think of myself as an aspiring dancer," Kris said, his voice such a low baritone it made Sehun swallow. 

"Oh, well that's fantastic. You'll be able to see him perform in the Spring Workshops. He'll represent our Ballet department."

"Pfft!" Tao snickered again, covering his mouth with his hand. "Ballet?"

Sehun narrowed his eyes.

"Well, we'll be showcasing all of our best students in every field of study we have to offer," Jinki explained.

"But it's not a _showcase_ ," Jongin countered in a way that was polite yet brimming with an undertone of irritation.

"Any performance is a chance to spread our voice," Jinki smiled patiently, understandingly, yet pointedly, leaving no room for further discussion. 

"Actually, on second thought," Kris interrupted, "I'd like to see your Art Department." 

"Well then, let me show you," Jinki replied kindly as he ushered Kris and Tao out.

"Psh, Chinese again . . . what is this an invasion?" Sehun murmured, trying to lighten the mood.

Jongin just frowned. 

Sehun sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I expected you to be shocked, just because I know you've been driving yourself crazy with new routines and all, but it's not like you're going to get a part in the background," He laughed lightly, just picturing it. You'll be the male lead in like Swan Lake or something."

Jongin slammed his fist into the closed door of Suho's office, the sound jarring and painfully aggressive.

"Dude, what the-"

"I don't want to dance Swan _fucking_ Lake," Jongin seethed. He glared at Sehun, eyes like daggers. "You know how many times I've danced to Swan Lake?"

Sehun glared right back, frustrated beyond belief that Jongin, whom got all the spotlight all the time, unlike himself, had the gall to stand here and complain about it. "Fine! I hope it's the fucking Nutcracker then, you idiot!" He yelled and shoved the irritating dancer.

Jongin, however, was in no mood. He caught Sehun's pale wrist in his hand and jerked the other boy towards him, staring him down, even though Sehun was slightly taller. "Do you know how many dancers audition for the National Ballet Company every year?" He growled into the other boy's face. "No, you don't. So I'll tell you. Hundreds of guys just like me, dancing since they could walk, performing the same boring old shit. And you know who gets picked? None of them. That's why the showcase was a chance to show our own skills! Our own choreography."

Sehun relaxed, but didn't let up his glare. 

"So sure, go ahead, say I'm selfish, say I'm an asshole. I don't fucking care. If I was going to waste two years here just to end up performing tired ass routines, then what's the fucking point? When I audition, I'm going to get picked. No matter what."

Sehun sighed and grabbed the hand that was holding his. "Can you stop talking to me like you want to fight me?"

Jongin blinked, then let go and stepped back. He looked away, embarrassed that he let his emotions over-take him. "Sorry," He said gruffly.

Sehun messaged his wrist. "No, you're not. But . . . I forgive you." He sneered. "Even if you are just an asshole perfectionist."

Jongin didn't say anything.

Sehun just rolled his eyes. "Come on," he inclined his head, beckoning the other. "Let's go find Luhan and Lay and get em' to teach us some Chinese. I want to walk by Tao and tell him his dick looks small in those tight leather pants."

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Taemin was also at school. The day had been dragging its ass though. He managed to sleep through Math and History, but he knew he'd have to pay attention in English so he blearily tried to stay awake on the way to his locker. He'd stayed up late, yet again, looking at dancing videos. Which sucks, because he has more dark circles under his eyes than he would like, considering he was meeting with Jongin later that day, and he's just not as resourceful as Key when it comes to make-up. But he shrugged it off. It's not like Jongin cared about what he looked like. After all, he was just teaching him how to dance. But, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Not about dancing, never. _But, teaching?_ Well, that was something different entirely. He just wanted to make sure he explained everything properly, since he was known to not be the most articulate person ever. 

Taemin sighed hopefully as he gripped the ends of his book bag straps and skipped around the corner.

But upon rounding said corner, he noticed someone standing in front of his locker. 

Taemin frowned. It was a tall, slim boy, he didn't recognize, mostly because he couldn't see his face. A little weary, he continued on.

When he stopped right beside his locker, however, the boy didn't move out of the way.

Taemin looked around cautiously, but the hallways were pretty much empty. ". . .Ahem!"

The other boy jumped in shock and turned around.

"Oh!" Taemin's mouth went wide with surprise. He pointed a finger, trying to think of the other boy's name. Choi something right? Min . . . Minho?

Minho let out a bewildered laugh before looking down at the crumpled piece of paper in his hands and then quickly hiding it behind his back.

Taemin narrowed his eyes. "Did you . . . take something from my locker?" He asked, his voice soft and cautious.

Minho's eyes went wide as he shook his head profusely. "What? No!" He said bringing the paper back around. "Uh. . ." He cringed, running a hand through his hair.

Taemin looked down at the paper. Big bold black letters, written in haste with a piece of tape hanging from the top.

**WHORE!**

Taemin's eyes flashed back up at the other boy. "Oh. . ." He said feeling a little awkward. He was used to hearing nasty gossip or seeing words scribbled on his desk, but he had never actually caught someone in the act as they were doing it. So he just blinked vacantly before turning around to walk away.

"No, wait!" Minho shouted, grabbing Taemin by the arm.

Taemin flinched and whipped back, looking like a frightened little kitten.

Minho dropped his arm immediately. "Sorry!" He said holding up his hands in surrender.

For a split second, reality shifted and Taemin thought of his first meeting with Jongin. And for whatever reason, he relaxed.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize, so I asked someone where your locker was. But the note was already there, I swear." 

Taemin bit his lip and looked away. _Figures._ I mean why would Minho go through all the trouble of defending him before, just to make fun of him now? It didn't make sense, right? Taemin sighed and looked back up. Minho looked like he had just been accused of some horrible crime. "I'm sorry," Taemin said. "For now and also, that you stood up for me . . . without knowing anything."

Minho instantaneously relaxed. He smiled and shrugged. "Why? I'm not. I mean, well, I was a little surprised. But, did you see Nara's face? I thought her fake eyelashes were going to fall off," He said while mimicking the head mean girl from the other day.

Taemin let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. It was too funny," Minho urged his voice low and warm.

Taemin looked down at his feet, a small smile playing on his lips, as he thought of Jongin again. It kind of felt like Deja vu. 

Minho studied the boy in front of him, feeling something pulling him. Maybe it was the sweet smile or twinkling eyes. He couldn't understand it, but it compelled him. "Hey. . ." 

Taemin looked up. "Huh?"

"You know . . ." Minho started, eyes scanning the other boy's body. "You're kind of skinny, but . . . I've seen you dancing around in the courtyard. You look pretty light on your feet. Have you ever thought about trying out for Soccer?" 

Taemin was shocked. His neck snapped back and he blinked. _Him? Sports?_ "Uh . . . me?"

Minho laughed at Taemin's expression. "Yeah, you."

Taemin laughed nervously. "Ah . . . I don't think so."

"Well, that's ok. If that's not your thing," Minho shrugged.

Taemin wanted to say he wished he could be normal where _things_ could be _his things_ but. . .

"Oh you know what? Crap! I have your iPod," Minho explained as his hands felt down the sides of the pockets on his jacket.

"You do?" Taemin asked eagerly. It would be great to not have to use the money he got from the dance competition to buy another one.

"Yeah, but I forgot it at home," Minho tsked. "I'll bring it to you tomorrow though," He promised.

Taemin smiled feeling like Minho seemed nice enough and easy to talk to. "Ok," He replied lightly.

And strangely enough, Taemin felt pretty good with how things were progressing. He managed to get through the rest of his day calmly, even though the minute the bell rang he was eagerly sprinting towards the station to catch the next train to the other side of town. He took a note from Key the other day and made sure to dress nicely. Some skinny-legged khaki cords and a pink-striped button up would have to do. He even wore his shiny new boots. He felt pretty satisfied with himself, confident even, as he showed up at the coffee shop.

Thankfully, Xiumin, proved to be very patient and kind. Taemin thinks the elder felt sorry for him after he broke the second plate, but either way he was grateful he didn't get yelled at. Time seemed to pass and before he knew it, Xiumin was telling Taemin to go home, and as he walked around the counter, there standing in the coffee shop, was Jongin.

"Hey."

Taemin wanted to just close his eyes and let that voice wash over him. But that would be weird, right? So instead, he smiled brightly and walked up to the other boy. Jongin looked a little tired, but gorgeous nonetheless. Dressed in light wash jeans and a grey hoodie, the boy looked effortless, and it made Taemin's heart race. How is it that when you wait all day for something, it's like it can't come fast enough. Yet, when it's finally here, you're anything but prepared? 

"You ready?" Jongin asked.

"Ah, yeah," Taemin breathed feeling that nervous sputtering in his chest.

"Come on," Jongin inclined his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I'll give you a tour."

A million and one heartbeats later, Taemin and Jongin were walking side by side through the darkened hallways of the Performing Arts school.

"Is it ok for me to be here?" Taemin whispered.

Jongin cast a glance at the other boy and smirked at his worried face. "Don't worry. Only a few students are still out practicing. Nobody will notice."

Down the hallway, and through an open door, they made their way into a large room where Jongin flicked on the lights.

"So this is the main studio."

Wooden floors stretched from one length of the room to the other, surrounded almost entirely in walls of mirrors and outlined by the classic two-tiered Ballet Barre.

Taemin's eyes went huge. "Wow! It's so-"

"Big, right?" Jongin smiled, proud of the way Taemin's face lit up. "That's what I thought when I first saw it too," He said looking around at a place he might as well call home, given the amount of time he spent there.

Taemin shook his head. "No, it's so clean!"

Jongin laughed, the sound was surprised but hearty. "Well, I guess that too."

Taemin smiled.

"So, should we get warmed up?" Jongin asked a little over-eager.

"Yeah," Taemin agreed quickly and started stretching out his neck and bending his legs.

Jongin took off his sneakers and unzipped his jeans. 

Taemin was about to hastily look away until the jeans slid down to reveal black tights underneath. Taemin mentally let out a breath as his hand flew to his chest.

Jongin finished by pulling on some black slippers, typically used for Jazz. He paused though, when he saw Taemin still dressed from work. "You didn't bring a change of clothes?"

Taemin looked around, puzzled for a second, then waved him off. "Oh don't worry. I can dance in anything." Which actually wasn't a lie.

Jongin's lower lip jutted out as he nodded, impressed.

"Uh . . ." Taemin started, "I've never actually taught someone how to do something before . . . so do you want to just watch me first?"

Jongin nodded, "Yeah, you want some music?"

"Sure, what do you have?" 

"Typically, just a lot of classical, but my classmate, Lay, gave me a mix recently," Jongin said, slipping his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and inserting it into the docking station at the front of the room.

And before they knew it, sounds started filtering in from several speakers placed throughout the large room. 

When the music starts, it's a lot of heavy bass and computerized sound effects, but it's dance-able. And when Taemin dances, he doesn't think about it. He's not nervous or shy. He doesn't second guess or fear. He just _moves_. He just lets the rhythm control his movements as if his body is the instrument making the sound. The bass beats like the thumping of his heart, so he emphasizes that in the way his chest pumps in and out. And when the melody follows into a high pitched trill, he lets his arms flow around it in waves like he's floating underwater. And then the bass kicks back in and it's mixing together with the melody and he's got arms and feet and chest, popping, and flexing and bending and flowing . . . all together. And it's quick and it's fluid and each turn or flick of the wrist is deliberate yet unconscious.

It's really amazing to watch.

Taemin finishes the song three minutes later, panting and lost inside himself. He doesn't even know where he's been as he comes down from the high, but he sees Jongin's expression. Sees those deep brown eyes glazed in what he hopes is awe and pouty lips gaped open as if he wants to speak.

But what exactly could Jongin say? "I don't even know where to begin."

Taemin smiles and walks over to the other boy sitting on the floor beside him. "Why don't you show me what you can do."

Jongin's slightly taken aback by the challenging tone in Taemin's voice, but he kind of likes it and he thinks it's a pretty good place to start. "Alright, let me turn off the music."

Because when Jongin dances, he doesn't need the music. Or at least he doesn't use it. His muscles are strengthened to hold difficult positions and conditioned to stretch past their limits. Curved arms, nimble feet, and practiced choreography that he could dance in his sleep. He moves around the room in giant twirling leaps, legs extended and arms reaching, taking up much more space than Taemin did, but the power is all the same. The passion still the same, just projected differently. And in the end he finishes with an elegant triple pirouette.

Taemin's in complete awe. He has no idea why on Earth Jongin wants to learn how to dance. Point blank; _Jongin can dance_ , in ways Taemin had surely never tried. So he stares wide-eyed and flushed and just starts clapping as if he's just a member of a crowded audience.

And Jongin feels satisfied in this as he slouches over to Taemin and tumbles to the floor on his back, his breath a little heavy. "You know . . ." He pants before licking his lips and continuing, "I've been dancing since I was seven. And every year it's exactly the same thing. Point your toes more. Keep your back straight. You need to jump higher and bend lower." 

Taemin is tickled with light laughter at the way Jongin pouts and grumbles as his speaks. "I bet that's annoying," He chimes.

Jongin raises an eyebrow and nods, before his face goes suddenly seriously. "Yet . . . you dance without any rules," He says, his voice low and his eyes distant. "It's like you're a free bird while I'm trapped in a cage.

Taemin's brows quirk as he thinks about it. "I think it's more like you're baking a cake while I'm making Ramen," He says suddenly.

"Huh?" Jongin blanches, coming out of his daze.

"Well in baking, you have to get all the measurements exact for every single ingredient, or else the cake won't turn out right," Taemin explains using his hands to elaborate his point. "And with Ramen, I just like to add whatever I want until it tastes good."

Jongin snorts. "I guess that kind of makes sense." But he's not too sure.

Taemin nods and continues. "Yeah and either way, we're both cooking, right? So in the end, no matter what your process is, we're still both dancing, too."

"Hmm . . ." Jongin hums and rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow facing Taemin. He stares intently at the boy sitting cross-legged beside him. Wondering . . . questioning . . . "How come you don't go this school?"

Taemin cocks his head to the side. "Because I go to a Public School near my house."

"Are you on a dance team?" Jongin counters.

"Pfft," Taemin giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. "The only thing close to a dance team at my school is maybe the Pom Squad?"

But Jongin doesn't laugh, his expression only grows deeper, more interested. "Then how do you get better? How do you practice?"

Taemin shrugs, "I mean I just look for new things, mostly on the internet, or at the dance club. And I just practice whenever I feel like it," Taemin says lightly.

Jongin sits up and moves closer, their legs touching. "So, what's the end goal?"

Jongin seems perplexed, maybe slightly agitated and Taemin laughs, a little nervously. "I guess I sound a little . . . condescending, huh? I mean, here you are working your way towards something definite. And I'm acting like it's simple . . . like we're just cooking dinner."

Jongin shakes his head. "No. It's just. . ." Jongin frowns, "Have you ever heard of the National Ballet Company?"

Taemin shakes his head.

"It's the absolute best. Every Ballet dancer dreams of making it there. But it's next to impossible. Not only do you have to be good _technically_ , they want to see a broad range of your talent. Its not just pointing toes and arching backs, it's 4-dimensional."

Taemin smiles and nods in understanding, thinking that Jongin is everything that he just described. "I'm sure you'll get picked. I mean you're very good."

Jongin frowns. "Good maybe, but I need to be great. That's why I was focusing so much on this showcase we do every year, but now they went and cancelled it. Now it's like back to the basics. It's back to, point your toes and bend your knees. It's stifling." Jongin sighs, "I envy you."

"Well . . . " Taemin pauses, his mind getting lost in dreams and ideals, "maybe being a caged bird isn't so bad after all. I mean, it's nurtured . . . well-kept, trained." He smiles lightly and gazes into Jongin's searching eyes. "And it's always dreaming of the day that it'll be set free. So that it can fly to that special place. But . . . a free bird . . ." Taemin shrugs, smile growing a little sad, "doesn't have anywhere to go. It's not nurtured or trained, and it doesn't have any expectations or dreams because . . . it's just simply fighting everyday to stay alive."

Jongin's mouth hangs open as a contemplative silence washes over them both.

Until Taemin overthinks everything he just said and tries to fix it. He laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. "Whoa, sorry, I . . . I don't know what I'm saying. Just ignore me."

"No." Jongin says forcefully, his hand coming to rest lightly on Taemin's thigh. "You're really . . . different."

Taemin laughs again, looking down at his lap. ". . .yeah," He agrees, "Unfortunately."

"No, no stop." Jongin shakes his head as if to clear his mind. "I mean, you just . . . make me think about things differently than I did before."

"Oh?" Taemin looks up with a raised eyebrow. No one's ever said that to him.

Jongin laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, and I don't know if I like it."

Taemin looks down again and tries to not focus on the hand moving restlessly on top of his thigh.

"But, I suppose if we're making analogies," Jongin squints and Taemin meets his eyes. ". . .its kind of like your first drink. You're curious and eager about something you've never tried before. Then at first sip, it burns and takes your breath away. Yet, the more you drink, the better it tastes, until . . . you're almost craving more."

Taemin smiles, "So, do you think I'm like a fine wine?" He jokes.

Jongin smiles back, his eyes deep and shining. "Possibly. I guess the only way I'll know is to keep taking sips."

Taemin blushes and wonders how one conversation changed so drastically to the next, but he's thankful for the deviation. But there's something in the way Jongin looks at him that he thinks is almost predatory, but then again . . . he's probably just overthinking it, so he tries to stay on track. "Do . . . you want to keep dancing?" Taemin asks hopefully.

Jongin takes his hand off Taemin's thigh. "Mmm . . . I don't know, for some reason . . . I don't."

Taemin looks down, his hands clasping together. "Oh, ok then," He says feeling a little disappointed. "But. . ." Taemin glances up. "I feel like I didn't really teach you anything." 

Jongin leans back on his arms and smirks. "Yeah, that's true," He agrees. "So, tomorrow then? Are you working?"

Taemin's eyebrows soar. "Yeah, I'll be done probably around the same time."

"Good," Jongin replies and simply gazes back at Taemin.

Taemin blinks before he blushes from the intense stare. Feeling a little silly, he should probably make his exit. Jongin's probably tired. He moves to stand up. "Uh, well . . . I guess I should get going." 

Jongin looks up at him from the floor, confused at first. "Oh right. Yeah, let me walk you to the station," He says shaking his head as he stands up.

"Oh, no that's ok. I'll be fine."

Jongin laughs. "Why do you always do that?" He accuses.

"Do what?"

"You always say no when someone offers something."

Taemin pales. He must sound so rude. "Oh, I'm sorry . . . it's not like that. I'm fine, really. I'm just the baby in my family, so I try to be a little more independent whenever I can," He explains.

Jongin nods. "Me too . . . I'm the baby too."

Taemin smiles.

Jongin sighs. "Alright, well I'll see you to the front of the school _at least_."

And this time, Taemin doesn't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed <3


	5. Unexpected

It was around 7:45 on a Tuesday night in the middle of March. Usually the coffee shop next to the Performing Arts school was calm, quiet and even cozy. But not tonight. Tonight, two girls in a booth next to the door were chatting rather loudly, despite hiding their mouths behind their hands. They continued to eye the two boys sitting at the counter. Just waiting and watching.

Xiumin, dressed neatly in a white button down, chuckled under his breath as he laid an ice pack on the marble counter in front of the rainbow-haired teen. "You deserved it," he admonished.

Sehun choked on his green tea latte. The hot liquid spewed out of his mouth onto the counter and down to his pants, causing him to jump up from his seat.

"Yah, what the hell!" Jongin yelled, startled from the random droplets that suddenly hit the side of his face. He too, stood up from his seat, his stool screeching harshly against the tile floor of the coffee shop.

And the girls from before practically squealed as they clutched each other's hands. 

Sehun wiped his mouth, ignored the girls, disregarded Jongin and gaped at Xiumin. "What?! How did _I_ know he was going to cry?" 

Xiumin frowned as he surveyed the messy condition of his counter top. What was once clean and pristine was now sloppily splattered in regurgitated coffee. He suddenly lost all humor or sympathy for the situation. He eyed the flabbergasted teen across the counter. "Luhan should have slapped you harder," he muttered as he took back the ice pack he had previously offered and turned around to retrieve a wet rag and cleaner from the back room.

Sehun huffed and muttered a curse as he sat back down on the stool. He glanced at Jongin to his right. "You don't think I deserved it, do you?"

Jongin shrugged in disinterest. "It was kind of funny."

Sehun smiled devilishly. "Right?" He ask nodding his head, "Who would have thought Tao was such a big baby?"

Jongin smirked and shook his head. "No, I meant the look on your face when your precious Luhan-Hyung slapped you."

Sehun looked away and stirred his latte. He pouted and sighed. "Whatever, he shouldn't have just _volunteered_ to tutor Tao in Korean. I mean he'll learn, eventually."

"What, you mean by repeating all the insults you throw at him?"

Sehun rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, it's a joke!" he defended. But then started to feel a little bad. He glanced at Jongin. "You think Luhan's still mad at me?"

Jongin let out a breathy chuckle. "Nah, he can't stay mad at you. Strange, really."

Sehun instantly brightened with a smile and a nod. He held up his coffee and turned towards Jongin. "Cheers to tha-" He frowned looking at Jongin's drink-less state. "Oh, where's yours?"

Jongin ran his hands along his black tight-covered legs. "No pockets." Which means he had no money.

"Oh . . ." Sehun frowned suddenly remembering the conversation with Suho. Feeling charitable, he snapped his fingers and laid a hand on his tanned friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, I got you." Sehun then turned back to the empty counter. "Service!" He called to the back room.

Xiumin rolled his eyes. "I swear, if that kid wasn't Luhan's friend, I would have kicked him out by now."

Taemin smiled. "But Hyung, he buys lots of coffee."

Xiumin scoffed. "Yeah, well he should learn to keep it in his mouth then!"

Taemin covered his mouth as he laughed, he wasn't used to seeing his usually reserved boss so worked up.

But Xiumin smiled in response, pleased that he could humor the younger. "Here, take this and a wet rag and make sure to wipe it all up." Xiumin instructed as he handed Taemin the disinfectant spray. 

"Yes," Taemin nodded, still chuckling. 

Together, they walked out of the back room. 

Funny thing is, Taemin still felt nervous and a little shy as he walked up to the counter where Sehun and Jongin were seated. He stopped right in front of them and glanced at the tall, dark dancer.

Jongin gazed back at Taemin with hooded eyes and a lazy smile before inclining his head towards the door.

Taemin blushed and tried to suppress his smile before shaking his head. He sprayed the counter and started wiping up the spilled coffee as Xiumin attended to Sehun.

"Hey, what do you want?" Sehun nudged Jongin in the arm.

Jongin tore his gaze away from Taemin and shook his head. "Huh? Oh, uh . . . tea?"

Sehun nodded and smiled pleasantly at Xiumin. "One tea . . . please." And proceeded to wave money in the air.

Xiumin took a deep breath as he cracked his neck. Anything to keep him from strangling the kid as he snatched the money from his hand. "Right up!" He replied.

Taemin chuckled as he ran his rag across the counter top, leaving a fresh smear of wet sheen against the white marble. 

And then a large, warm hand rested on top of his, stopping his movements.

Taemin stilled and looked up. He wasn't sure when he would get used to the feeling of Jongin's skin touching his, but it made him hold his breath every single time.

Jongin leaned forward. "Are you almost done?" he whispered, voice low and slightly urgent.

Taemin bit his lip. He sneaked a glance in Xiumin's direction to see the elder still busy making the tea. He looked back at Jongin and leaned in, the tips of his light brown hair fluttering softly against Jongin's hand. "Get it to go and maybe I can convince him to close a little early," he whispered back with a mischievous smile.

Jongin's eyes darkened in anticipation as he nodded and slid his hand off of Taemin's.

Taemin let out the breath he had been holding as he scampered back to the back room. 

Twenty minutes later, Xiumin closed up the shop and Taemin was waving the elder goodbye as he walked across the street towards the school. It was unexpectedly cold for mid-March and it being close to 8:30 meant the sun's heat had all but dissipated, leaving a chill in the night air. 

Taemin shivered as he popped the collar of his white button down and unbuttoned the cuffs, letting the sleeves fall past his hands. He crossed the parking lot and sat on the steps at the front entrance to the school. He took out his phone and sent a text to Jongin telling him he was waiting. He smiled at the fluorescent screen wondering when it became so normal to send and receive texts.

It had been two weeks and three days since Taemin had met Jongin. And every night, after work, they would meet to dance.

Taemin breathed deeply as he felt his face flush just thinking about it. How different things had become so quickly. He didn't know how Jongin felt, but to him, their time spent together was his most cherished. 

Because when Taemin explained a difficult move, Jongin listened. And when Taemin danced, Jongin watched. And when Taemin made a stupid joke, Jongin . . . laughed. 

Taemin smiled and hugged himself. Regardless of how long it would last, he would remember it for always, he knew that for sure. 

And then he found himself being hugged from behind, long firm arms wrapping tightly around his front. "Yah, you're freezing," Jongin murmured into Taemin's hair.

The warmth of Jongin's . . . _everything_ felt like the best thing in the world. Taemin closed his eyes and wished for time to stop. 

But of course it didn't. Jongin merely hauled Taemin up to his feet and then proceeded to half carry half drag the lighter boy through the Performing Arts School towards the dance studio. All while Taemin laughed and struggled the entire way.

"My, someone's a little eager today," Taemin joked once he was finally put down.

Jongin's smile faded and he looked down at the wooden floor with a pout.

Taemin frowned as well. "Is something wrong?" 

Jongin sighed as he shed his hoodie, leaving him bare chested in just his tight fitting black tights. 

Taemin's eyes widened as he ran a hand through his hair shyly. He was used to seeing Jongin dripping from sweat after a couple hours of practice and he was even getting used to the tightness of Jongin's tights and how they accentuated every dip and curve of his toned lower body, but . . . he didn't know what it was about a bare chest . . . that made him never want to look away. 

"The Spring Workshops are in four weeks," Jongin spoke, his eyes still on the floor, "They're usually just about impressing parents so they'll spend a fortune for their kids to attend an elite school. And even Suho says it's typical for private school's to scramble for new students at the beginning of the year . . . since so much money is spent during the last quarter."

Taemin's brow quirked as he listened intently, trying to figure out where Jongin was going with this because, by the other boy's demeanor, it seemed something was off.

At Taemin's silence, Jongin shifted his weight and continued. "Anyway, this year they really went all out. They even hired a famous dancer to choreograph the Ballet performance." 

"Oh?" Taemin prompted, unsure what part was supposed to be bad. 

Jongin met Taemin's eyes. "He's a principal dancer from the National Ballet Company."

Taemin blinked and shook his head. "Oh! W-wow, that's great!" He smiled and took a step towards Jongin, hands extended.

But Jongin only stared back, his eyes unreadable, face expressionless. "I'm one of the male leads, along with another guy and girl. We've . . . been practicing really hard."

Taemin felt his skin heat up as a flurry of emotions rushed through him. He stepped back. He was excited and happy for Jongin that he was steps closer to his dream. And yet, that painful, knowing feeling in the deepest part of his heart kept his smile from being truly genuine as he nodded in understanding. He finally knew where Jongin was going.

Jongin was trying to tell him that he needed to practice for his performance. He couldn't waste any more time playing around with Taemin.

Taemin licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed. He continued to nod as he looked anywhere but at Jongin and anxiously scratched at his arm before speaking. "I understand," he said softly, his smile gone. 

"No, you don't."

Taemin looked up.

Jongin bit his lips anxiously and shook his head. "How could you know when I haven't even told you yet?"

Taemin smiled and shrugged. "Be-because I already knew this would happen . . . eventually. I mean, there's only so much I can teach you anyway," Taemin offered lightly.

Jongin let out a heavy breath. "I need you to do me a favor."

Taemin blinked. "Huh?"

Jongin took two strides towards Taemin until he was standing directly in front of him. He could smell the vanilla scent of the smaller's shampoo and the coffee on his breath. "The problem is, I haven't been performing well in class."

Taemin's eyes widened as he looked at the seriousness reflected in Jongin's brown eyes. "What? Why, is it because we've been-"

"No, no listen," Jongin said taking Taemin's hands in his. Jongin's eyes traveled all over Taemin's face, drinking the boy in. He was even more beautiful in person than he could ever conjure up in his dreams. From the soft smooth skin, to those twinkling eyes and full cheekbones to finally rest on his freshly licked lips. Jongin released one of Taemin's hands to run his fingers over the stray strands of hair sticking against those wet lips. He smoothed the long brown hairs back behind Taemin's left ear, noting the way the boy trembled under his touch. "The choreographer says my form is perfect," Jongin whispered, his eyes dark. 

Taemin felt dazed. He stared at Jongin completely perplexed. "T-that's . . . good?" Taemin whispered back, his eyes frantically searching the other's.

But Jongin's eyes dipped down towards the column of Taemin's neck as his other hand reached behind the thinner boy's waist. And ever so slowly he trailed the tip of his finger up the length of Taemin's spine. 

And the long haired boy's mouth fell open on a soft gasp as the sensation of Jongin's finger sliding up his back made him flex involuntarily. 

As Jongin's finger glided up from lower back to shoulder blades, he bit his lip in satisfaction, enjoying the way Taemin arched under his touch. The beautiful boy's head moving back and exposing more of his long neck to feast on. Jongin's eyes half closed as he nuzzled his face against the soft skin of the crook; the space between Taemin's ear and shoulder. "He says I bend beautifully," Jongin continued, his voice low and rough as it breathed into the shell of Taemin's ear.

Taemin's eyes fluttered closed. He had no idea what was going on. He was just trying to remember to breathe so he didn't pass out. But Jongin's proximity, the warmth radiating off his bare chest, the smell of sweat on his body, the hot breath lighting his skin on fire and the way his fingers were now tickling the back of his neck . . . it was literally impossible to do anything.

"You see . . . the routine's a little risque for a high school workshop. It's a love triangle. There's even a sex scene."

Taemin's eyes widened. He shook his head to clear it. _What? A what? Did he just say a sex scene?_

"Not a real one of course, but we dance it out pretty convincingly . . . and you see that's where my problem is . . ." Jongin trailed off as he moved back to look into Taemin's eyes.

Taemin swallowed and brought his head back down, his hands wrapping firmly around Jongin's arms. "W-what's the problem?"

Jongin's eyes darkened. "The female lead looks as if she wants to jump my bones any second."

Taemin frowned and looked away. He didn't really want to hear what he already knew. 

"But my expression when I look at _her_. . . I was told I just look . . . bored."

Taemin looked back at Jongin in an unseeing manner. _What was he trying to say? He needed a favor? A sex scene?_ But Taemin didn't know anything about sex, he was only seventeen. 

"So that's why I need your help."

Taemin laughed even though he felt rather embarrassed to admit it. "I . . . uh. I would like to help you . . . but," he bit his lip feeling his cheeks redden, "I don't have . . . any sexual experience," He finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jongin smiled and laughed at Taemin and how adorable he looked all flushed and embarrassed. "That's ok, you don't need any. It's just pretend," he tried to reassure, one hand still resting on Taemin's lower back while the other played idly with a strand of Taemin's hair. "I need to look like i'm attracted to my female dance partner, like-you know . . . passionately, but I can't, no matter how hard I try," Jongin explained, "But," Jongin paused, his eyes trailing again over Taemin's face. "When I look at you . . . it's easy. Almost too easy."

Taemin took in a deep breath. He thinks Jongin just said he wanted to have sex with him, but that probably wasn't right. He shook his head. "You-," Taemin paused. "You need me to practice with you because . . . you don't think your partner's pretty?" Taemin tried, still unsure.

Jongin chuckled at how ridiculous it sounded coming from Taemin's mouth. "Are you saying no? You don't want to help me practice?"

Taemin shook his head, his hands flying to Jongin's chest. "No! I mean, I'm not saying no . . . I just . . . I don't know the first thing about Ballet."

Jongin covered Taemin's hands with his own as they rested lightly against his chest. "Exactly, so now . . . it's my turn to teach _you_."

Taemin looked down at their hands resting against Jongin's chest and smiled at how fast Jongin's heart was beating. _Was this really happening?_ Taemin couldn't believe it. But of course he wouldn't refuse. "Ok . . ." Taemin breathed.

Jongin moved in, both hands coming up to slide against Taemin's cheeks. "I knew you'd say yes." Jongin grinned.

Taemin's brow quirked. "Oh? How did you know?" He asked playfully. 

Jongin's eyes went a little hooded as he came forward, his breath caressing Taemin's face. "You're as attracted to me as I am to you . . . am I right?"

Taemin flushed and wet his lips. He looked back up into Jongin's eyes. Those dark, powerful eyes. Who was he kidding?

"Yes . . ." Taemin whispered his eyes growing heavy.

Jongin smirked, his eyes trained on nothing but the pouty, slightly parted and freshly licked lips in front of him. Lips that he was dead-set on devouring. "Good," He murmured and moved forward.

Taemin went still. He didn't want to move or breathe or blink, because what was happening right now, could _not_ be real. But the second he felt the rough softness of Jongin's lips against his own, he melted completely.

There was really only one way to describe it; _intoxicating._

And Jongin's mouth opened each time he came back in to hungrily suck Taemin's lower lip into his mouth, his teeth biting into the plump flesh, finding it so damn delicious. And each time, Taemin let out the sexiest almost breathless whimpers. They made Jongin's dick throb in his tights. He groaned from the sweet ache as he ran a tongue along the bruised and broken flesh inside his mouth. But this was not enough. Jongin wanted more. He needed more. His nails raked against the back of Taemin's head as his fingers tangled in the silken strands of his hair. He pulled the smaller boy towards him, clutching the small of his back, so he could gain better access to his mouth. He grabbed a fist full of hair and tugged Taemin's head back, opening his mouth further and exposing the column of his neck.

Taemin groaned in response as he felt his erection graze against Jongin's.

But.

Taemin may be a little flighty, and truth be told, he was on cloud nine at this point, but he wasn't that easily swept away. He knew what this really was.

_Jongin just needed a substitute._

Someone whose face was pretty enough that he could imagine it as he danced with someone else. As he touched someone else. As he kissed someone else. But ultimately as he moved towards his end goal. Nothing more and nothing less. But even so, as Jongin's tongue slid deliciously against his, Taemin welcomed it all. He could teach, he could be taught and he could substitute . . . because regardless of everything, Taemin promised himself he would have no regrets whatsoever. 

So he ran his hands down Jongin's firm torso and sucked the boy's tongue into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this chapter! I don't know what to say lmao, I forgot this part happened so quickly >< hope you enjoyed <3


	6. Cute

There's something about the thrill of a first kiss. Taemin could say it's slightly comparable to fireworks on the Fourth of July. Because, when the fuse is lit, it's like a race against time. Taemin lets out a whimper, his mouth hungry for the teeth that are biting hard and sucking languidly on his bruised and swollen lips. Taemin doesn't even know where his own tongue is or what it's rubbing against because everything inside Jongin's mouth is soft and warm and wet and _feels so good_. 

Almost like he could forget that the firework is about to explode. 

Jongin, on the other hand, wouldn't and couldn't compare kissing Taemin with anyone or anything, it just wasn't possible. Taemin had the plumpest and juiciest lips he had ever had the pleasure of sucking on. And the sounds he made every time their mouths broke to readjust! The soft gasps and sighs and breathless moans as his lusty eyes half closed and his mouth opened once again to receive Jongin's desperate tongue . . . _it was driving him fucking crazy._

Jongin's hand cupped the back of Taemin's neck, his long fingers intertwining in the soft brown hairs around the boy's nape. His other hand ached to reach further south, to explore the dancer's lithe frame because he knew it would be soft yet toned and smooth as silk underneath his greedy fingers, but Jongin willed himself to hold back.

_He wouldn't take too much . . . just a little._

Taemin whined as Jongin bit down on his tongue, the sensation painful yet pleasurable in the most mixed up way possible.

Jongin let it slide out of his mouth slowly and teasingly, making sure to savor it. He smirked a little wryly once Taemin's tongue left his mouth. The boy tasted like a white chocolate mocha . . . sweet, delicious and with no trace of bitterness. 

And as Jongin went in yet again to taste more of the beautiful boy that was seriously grazing against the hardness in his pants, he was surprised when Taemin took more initiative. Even boldly shoving his tongue into the tanned dancer's mouth. 

It didn't last long though.

And Taemin knew he had gotten ahead of himself when Jongin broke away suddenly and started coughing violently. Even so far as bending over and covering his mouth with his forearm.

Taemin looked all around, face hot and palms starting to sweat. _Shit!_ He shouldn't have done that. He was flustered, caught up in the moment. He wanted more and took too much. He's only skilled in dancing not kissing. And he's sure Jongin must think he's absolutely terrible at it and now he's so embarrassed and mortified, he doesn't know what to do. 

So once Jongin stops choking and looks back up at him, Taemin smiles a little sadly and laughs quietly, his hand coming around his stomach to pick at the opposite elbow. "Sorry," he says and looks down at the floor. "I-i'm sure she'll-your partner- will kiss better than me."

But even as Taemin feels like falling into a deep hole because the pain in his stomach is becoming insufferable, Jongin just chuckles. The sound reverberating off the studio walls.

Jongin shakes his head and grasps Taemin's wrist lightly, reassuringly. "No, it's . . . it's cute."

* * *

"He said it was CUTE but I felt like I was going to DIE!" Taemin cried as he face palmed.

Key threw his hands up in the air. "Wait, wait, wait! You're telling me you just met the guy and you're already sucking his face off?"

Taemin's eyes practically popped out of his head as he looked around the crowded shopping mall to see just how many people were listening to their conversation. "W-well . . . I mean . . . kind of?" He offered, clearly flustered.

"Haha!" Key cackled and smacked the younger boy lightly. "Taemin-ah, I'm proud of you, really. Wow. Your first kiss. But you gotta tell me, like how hot is he?"

"What?!"

Key smiled wider and squinted his eyes mischievously. "Come on, like is he hotter than Jonghyun?"

Taemin lost it. "Pftt! Thats like apples to oranges." 

"What?!" Key shouted, completely baffled. "Explain," he demanded.

Taemin rolled his eyes and brushed the other's hand. "Jjong's like a . . . sudden spring rain. He's gentle and exciting but . . . Jongin's more like an electrical storm . . . beautiful and deadly." Taemin smiled, pleased with his descriptions.

"Hahaha!" Key cackled again, his laughter, simply put, like that of a wailing hyena and also infectious and brutally contagious. 

"Wow! Taemin-ah you're totally into this guy!" Key blurted out, the surprise evident in his voice because . . . had Taemin ever talked about a guy he had a crush on? Not that he can remember.

Taemin nodded his head and gazed at the tile on the floor. "He's . . . special." He hummed.

Key smirked and raised a single eyebrow. "Soooo . . . when do I get to meet him?" He asked, nudging the younger in the side.

Taemin frowned. "Meet him? Uh . . . I dunno." He shrugged.

"What do mean, you're dating him, right? Why wouldn't you let me meet him?" Key asked, slightly offended.

Taemin stopped and looked at Key wide-eyed and shaking his head. He brought his hands up. "Oh no no no, we're not dating. We're just pretending- I mean . . . we're _practicing_ together. You know he's actually a really great Ballet dancer and he's trying to get into this really difficult Ballet company. So he asked me if-"

Key frowned. "Taemin-ah," he reprimanded.

Taemin felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He dropped his hands and looked down. 

"Do you know what you're doing?" Key questioned seriously.

Taemin's eyebrows rose and dropped as a million thoughts raced through his mind. Was it that big of a deal? Couldn't they just say it was practice or pretend or whatever it was. Dancers have to have chemistry when they perform. It's just a fact. It doesn't have to be complicated yet Taemin thinks he's just trying to convince himself at this point. ". . . I just-"

Key sighed and wrapped an arm around the younger's shoulders. "What am I gonna do with you?" Key asked, thinking the younger had clearly not thought things through, yet again.

But Taemin shook his head and brushed off Key's arm. He knew when he was being judged or pitied. "It's not like that! I mean, _yes_ , I like him, but . . . I'm not _expecting_ anything. I just want to help him. I just want to be his friend."

Key felt his heart pull at the defeated tone in Taemin's voice. Maybe he was being too harsh. He sighed again and gripped the other boy's shoulders hard, bringing his face close to the younger's. "Look, I'm not gonna nag you like I used to, but you gotta start _wanting things_ , you know? You can't be so passive all the time."

But that's not true, Taemin thought. He wanted a lot of things. Too many to count even. But sometimes it's just easier to not have such high expectations. Instead of being constantly let down, If something good actually did happen, it would feel _that much better_. And Taemin thinks that's a more positive way to look at it.

Key purses his lips and forces his cousin to meet his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."

". . .What." Taemin replies, fearing the response.

"Just don't have sex with him."

Taemin laughs. _As if that was going to be a problem._ "Don't tell anybody," he urges the elder.

Key smirked and ruffled Taemin's hair. "Don't worry. I won't tell _your brother_ , but you do owe me some free coffee," he reminded.

"Ok ok."

"Good. Now come on, all this talk about boys and kissing has me stressed out. I need to buy something." Key announced and started walking towards a particularly trendy looking store up ahead. 

But before Taemin could even open his mouth, the elder whipped around and pointed a finger at him. "And shut up! I'm buying you new clothes too!" 

An hour later, Taemin was staring at his reflection in the dressing room mirror. Key had picked out the most ridiculous outfit he had ever seen. 

"Where am I even supposed to wear this to?"

"Would you stop complaining, that's real fur! Now come out and let me see."

Taemin sighed and pushed open the door. He walked over to an approving Key and curtsied before the elder.

Key smiled and clapped as if it was his child's graduation from Kindergarten. "Oh my gosh, this is the best! And look at your legs!" Key cried as his hands slid down the bleach-splattered, neon green, severely distressed skinnies with a stripe of fur running down the sides. Skinnies that were currently sticking like a second skin to Taemin's enviously thin legs.

"Honestly, I don't even think I could wear this for a dance performance without being laughed off the stage. I mean what is this? Recycled tires?" Taemin asked as he picked at his navy blue tasseled shirt.

Key of course ignored all the obvious complaints or concerns. "I think it's definitely a yes! Now go try on the next set," he decided.

And as Taemin sighed and turned around, he was met with a face full of laughter. 

"Lee Taemin?" Came the deep voice.

Taemin paled.

"Hahaha! I thought that was you!" The taller boy exclaimed as he made his way over. He stopped once he got closer, his large eyes scanning Taemin's body head to toe. "Wow, what an outfit!" He chuckled again. "Is it for cosplay or something?" 

Taemin unfroze himself and laughed. "O-oh . . . yeah." He agreed quickly and ran a hand through his hair shyly.

"Yah, Cosplay?!" Key bellowed as he appeared behind Taemin and eyed the newcomer.

"Is that him?" Key whispered into Taemin's ear.

"Huh?" Taemin responded.

"Your beautiful and dangerous electrical storm . . . He seems a little goofy to me," Key murmured out the side of his mouth, much louder than a whisper. 

"What?!" And then it clicked and Taemin was frantic to clear up the confusion. "No no, this is Choi Minho. He plays soccer at my school."

Key frowned as he digested the information. "Oh . . . Oh!" He realized and then pointed a finger at the taller boy. "You're the one who messed up Taeminnie's face! With the soccer ball, right?" Key accused, immediately throwing daggers.

Minho's eyes widened and his mouth opened in protest. "What? Now wait a minute, I said sorry for that!"

Taemin pressed both his hands together, as if he was praying for forgiveness. "Yes, you did. I'm sorry!" He apologized quickly, but only further cringed as he looked back and forth between his cousin and his classmate. "Key, stop!" Taemin scolded under his breath and nudged the elder back.

"You're . . . alright, right?" Minho asked suddenly, concern evident.

Taemin turned and waved him off politely. "I'm fine. It was forever ago. Oh, and thanks again for giving me my IPod back, I really appreciate it."

Minho shrugged. "Oh yeah, no problem."

Taemin nodded and smiled as his eyes slid to the ground. 

"Actually . . . I know you seemed a little leery before when I mentioned trying out for the soccer team . . . but I still think it would be kinda cool if you did."

Taemin was taken aback at that. It would be kind of cool if he joined? _Why?_ He looked up. "Uh . . . I don't really know how to play soccer," He replied lamely.

But Minho only brightened and clapped his hands. "Oh! Well that's ok, I can totally teach you. It's easy. "

And suddenly, Taemin went inside his head. He saw mirrors and wooden floors. He heard the deep rumble of hearty laughter and felt the brush of rough chapped lips rubbing against his. _Teach me, teach you . . ._

Taemin flushed and shook his head. _Wow, what was it with Minho?_ Every time he came around . . . he reminded him of Jongin. But he had to remember what was going on here and now. The question was soccer and the idea was Minho teaching him how to play . . . 

"I dunno, Taemin-ah. Remember, he did hit you in the face. I question how good his skills are." Key chirped, completely unaffected as he insulted the other boy and still obviously not over the cosplay comment.

But Minho was a little too competitive to be topped so easily. "Oh really, and are you some kind of soccer expert?" He challenged. 

Key pouted and tipped his head nonchalantly. "Maybe not in the sport, but if it involves men and balls . . . well I'll leave that to your imagination."

Minho covered his face as he blushed.

"Yah! Key!" Taemin all but shouted, completely over being embarrassed at this point. 

Key cackled as the full force of winning overtook him. Sometimes it felt downright sinful to be so witty. "I'm just kidding," he said lightly as he embraced his pretty pouting cousin. "If you want to do it, just do it," Key whispered.

Taemin thought about it. What did he want? He had always thought it looked like the soccer players were having so much fun on the field after school. He'd watch them sometimes, when he wasn't rushing off to Key's club, like before or to the coffee shop now. He'd watch the group of boys run up and down the field till they were wet with sweat. They seemed happy, as if they were having the time of their lives, and all of it was because they were trying to make a goal. 

_Oh. A goal, huh._

Taemin frowned as he yet again thought of Jongin. The gorgeous dancer had a fierce goal he was fighting like hell to reach. And Taemin wished he had something he could fight just as hard for. He didn't need to fight for dancing, because . . . dancing was already there . . . it was his escape when he had nothing else, but it wasn't his goal. He didn't know what he could possibly wish for, but he supposed Key was right. He'd have to stop living life so passively if he wanted to figure it out. He looked up and met Minho's expectant eyes. "Ok . . . I . . . want to learn how to play soccer."

And Minho's face broke out in a big goofy grin and he threw his hands up in the air like he just scored. "Good! I know you'll love it. And hey since we're here, we should get you some cleats."

"Ah ah ah, excuse me," Key interrupted. "Taemin-ah, you still have another outfit to try on, and then we'll pick out your cleats." Key then addressed Minho, "You can tag along too, I guess."

Minho smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, does the diva give me his permission?"

Key smiled like a Cheshire Cat. "Only because you're _kind of_ good looking. You won't wreck our style too much. Now enough, I need to buy something!" He practically screamed and walked off.

Taemin cringed as he watched Key stomp back over to the fitting room and sit on the couch. "Sorry. . ." Taemin laughed softly. "My cousin's a little . . . blunt?" Taemin offered skeptically. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. We . . . should pick out shoes another day?" Taemin instantly cringed at the desperately hopeful way he asked that question, silently cursing Key for his brashness.

But Minho smirked and crossed his arms. He shook his head and eyed Key from across the room. "Nah, he's . . . cute. And you!" He said turning and putting both hands on Taemin's shoulders. "You're not gonna get rid of me that easily. So, just relax."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed <3


	7. Hidden

It starts with hot breath panting against the flesh of his neck. The sensitive skin feels like its on fire as it tingles straight down to his hardening cock. 

Taemin squeezes his eyes shut, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his bottom lip.

And then hot breath is replaced by an even hotter and deliciously wet tongue, as open mouthed kisses are languidly slathered from behind his ear, down his neck and towards his protruding collarbones.

Taemin tries to focus on those thick lips sucking, and his teeth grazing, and that tongue rubbing as large hands roam over his body. Those deft fingers rubbing circles around a hardened nipple.

Taemin arches against the sheets, his breath hitching as he moans softly.

But he needed some friction. He wanted the hand that was abusing his nipple to move down, to explore his body, to invade it. To make him _melt_ into the bed that he was lying on. 

And then it did.

The hand encircled his leaking erection and Taemin about lost it from the pleasure.

He flipped himself over, mashing his face into his pillow to drown out his moans. The hand all the while stroking and rubbing his leaking wetness all over his throbbing shaft, even dipping the tip of a finger into the slit, which caused Taemin to shudder and drool into his pillow.

Flushed cheeks, and hair matted with sweat, Taemin imagined Jongin's tanned, toned chest pressing against his back as Jongin pumped his cock roughly.

"Ahh! . . . Nnnmf." Taemin moaned, biting his lips from the white hot heat, just at the brink of exploding over the cliff.

He couldn't take it anymore. He bucked his hips into his hand, the head of his cock rubbing against the rough sheets. And in two seconds, he was biting down hard and covering his mouth as he shuddered violently, cumming all over his bed. His body shook for a few more seconds as he braced himself against the frame for support. He wiped his mouth and looked down at the mess he had made and sighed. He lifted himself slightly and rolled the dirtied sheets into a ball and threw them under his bed, mentally reminding himself to wash it before his mother found it the next day. 

He pulled his pajama bottoms back up and rolled onto his back.

Taemin stared at the ceiling, chest heaving and heart racing. He flopped a lazy hand on top of his ribs in a futile attempt to calm himself down as his head lulled to the side. He stared wearily at the clock on his bedside table. 

2:30 AM

He sighed. He figured since he would never have sex with Jongin in real life, he might as well fantasize about it. And usually a little 'me time' would make him sleepy, but this time, it only served to further his anxiousness. He couldn't sleep but he was tired. Strange how that happens.

He pouted as an idea came to mind. Probably not a good idea, but he still found himself turning onto his stomach and leaning his head over the side of the bed. He peeked under it, past the rolled up sheets and retrieved a tiny metal card box laying on the floor. He then slipped himself off the bed entirely and crawled towards the window on the other side of his room, box in hand. 

He unlocked the window and eased it open slowly, making sure to not make too much noise. The night air flowed in making the damp hairs against his neck feel colder than they should. He licked his lips in anticipation as he flipped open the case and stared at what was inside. He sneaked a quick and apprehensive glance at his bedroom door before picking up a single, thin cigarette from the box and slipping it in between his lips. He grabbed an old pack of matches sitting on the sill and with his hands shaking slightly, he lit the end of the cigarette in his mouth.

Taemin squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled tentatively, letting the toxic air infiltrate his lungs. 

It felt weird, unhealthy at best, but there's something calming about the burn, about the aggressive way he has to hold his breath and keep the smoke inside his body that makes him feel . . . _strong_.

Until a faint knock and the knob on his bedroom door started to turn.

Taemin took a sharp inhale, which is technically a double inhale, and it caused him to cough violently, tears coming to his eyes. 

"Taem-!" Taesun starts but quickly comes into his little brother's room and shuts the door quietly. He walks across the room and snatches the cigarette from the younger's hand. 

"What the hell is this?!" He whispers harshly before tossing the offending object out the open window.

Taemin can barely get his breath not only cause of the awkwardly swallowed smoke but also because his freaking older brother decided to check in on him, and oddly enough Taemin wishes the elder could have been five minutes earlier. They would have had a good laugh about it, and chatted until they fell asleep, but now. "It's. . ." 

"Where did you get that?"

Taemin rests his palms against the floor, his breathing becoming easier now, but he doesn't look up. "I found it?" Not totally a lie, but he can tell Taesun already knows.

Taesun lifts Taemin's chin. "That better not have been one of dad's," he says, eyes deadly serious.

Taemin swallows and looks away. He doesn't need the warning. He knows what happens when someone takes dad's things.

"Shit," Taesun curses under his breath. "How many did you take?"

Taemin takes a deep breath as his arm starts to itch. He knows he's in trouble, but he honestly doesn't know how many he took. He can't even remember why he took them in the first place. So he doesn't answer because there's nothing he can say. He can't make excuses for something he doesn't understand. And to be honest, all he wanted to do was get some sleep.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his eyes finally coming up to meet Taesun's. Because he is sorry. He would feel absolutely horrible if someone else was blamed for his stupidity. Taemin cringes as he scratches his arm roughly. "It's gonna be bad isn't it?"

Taesun shakes his head as he stares at Taemin's expression. The younger's not afraid anymore. He's worse now, he's just simply waiting for the ball to drop. He just accepts it. Taesun crouches down on the floor and hugs the younger. "It's fine, we don't even know when he'll come back. We'll replace them before he finds out, ok?" He whispers into Taemin's ear, "We're in this together, remember?"

Taemin shakes his head and hugs the elder back. "I'm sorry," he whispers again. But this apology is for so much more than a few stolen cigarettes. "I'm so sorry, Taesun, for . . . the family."

The elder pushes the younger away and shakes him roughly. "Don't Taemin. I mean it." 

And Taemin knows he's said too much, but sometimes it just feels like it's not enough. He nods again, pressing his lips together to forcibly hold himself back. And Taesun hugs him again, like he always does. 

But how many times have they sat here in this very room, together, hugging, crying, comforting? Is it weird that it's become so normal? Is it weird that he finds a strange sense of peace in the warm embrace even though he knows the reasoning behind it. Taemin sighs, his mind and his body finally catching up to each other. He lets his head rest on Taesun's shoulder and finds his eyes starting to close. And before you know it, Taesun's scooping up his little brother's sleeping form and putting him into bed.

And quite possibly, it was a full moon, for across town in a darkened dorm room, Jongin finds himself frightened beyond belief. And it's not Sehun's snoring that has the dancer so wrecked out of his mind.

It's a ghost.

_Her_ ghost.

And he's too scared to close his eyes because he knows that he can't control what his dreams will force him to see. And it's all because of that damn boy. 

* * *

**Six Hours Earlier**

Jongin's in the studio practicing choreography for the spring workshops. It's the usual; himself, the female lead, the choreographer . . . and the unusual; the choreographer's assistant.

Jongin's dark gaze slides to the other end of the room where the boy sits. Well technically not a boy as he is older, but he looks much younger. Could of passed for a middle school student even. And he might be kind of cute, except for those eyes of his.

At the sound of a loud clap, Jongin jerked his gaze back to the choreographer in the middle of the room. He was a tall guy with a large build, a goofy smile and elvish ears. His eyes were friendly, though, as they flitted from Jongin to the boy watching them in the corner.

"Oh, don't mind him," Chanyeol says with a wave. "He's not a dancer but he's got a really good eye. He'll let me know what I'm missing so that I can correct you afterwards. Just think of him as merely a fly on the wall."

Jongin nods mutely, his eyes going back to said 'fly on the wall' momentarily. But he frowns when he catches the boy's straight gaze. There's something about his eyes. Those large, dark, expressionless eyes, like bottomless pits, that stare unafraid and not the least bit intimidated. They are the 'I see right through you' type of eyes. The kind Jongin hates the most. But, if the boy wanted to watch him so badly, Jongin thought with a smirk, then he would give him a show.

"Remember, Jongin, you want her to want you. Make her feel it," comes the deep voice of Chanyeol, his words echoing throughout the studio.

Jongin exhales, making sure all the breath leaves his lungs. He bends his neck side to side and shakes his body all over, mentally and physically preparing himself to dance. He takes in a sharp breath through his nose as he brings his arms and one leg up, poised in the air, ready to spin on a single arched foot. He pirouettes three times before bringing his leg down, continuing on into a serious of quicker spins and then leaping out of it, legs straight and scissoring into the air. He's as graceful as a gazelle but the burn in his thighs and the dull ache in his lower back remind him that he is indeed a mere human. Yet he keeps his chest out and arms extended as he lands in front of the female lead. Basically, presenting himself to her.

"Beautiful," Chanyeol says, clapping his hands in time, like a metronome. 

The female dancer smiles at Jongin, her eyes twinkling as she grasps his extended hand. He wraps an arm around her thin waist and lifts her into the air before spinning her out, her tiny body twirling across the floor, entirely en pointe.

"Good, Hyoyeon, keep those arms strong. Now, make him work for it."

The small blonde switches into a scared expression as she shies away from the tanned, brooding male. She turns and hides behind a prop.

"She's afraid Jongin, go and get her," Chanyeol's voice continues to narrate.

Jongin spins once before dropping to the floor in a roll, his legs bending and rotating, only to end up in a crouched position right in front of her. Animalistic and dangerous. He takes her hand and drags her out of hiding. He then twists her arm around, making her rotate 360 degrees, so that he can bring them both to a standing position. He jerks them up, all the weight being carried by his bent thighs. 

She jumps and arches in to his chest, her arm extended, their faces close, and breathes panting. 

"This is it." 

They stare deeply into each other's eyes, their bodies flush together. It's supposed to be sensual and sexy with the promise of more.

"Come on, don't lose it, make me feel it guys. I need to feel the attraction," Chanyeol tuts, his head dipping down as he watches the two dancers. 

Hyoyeon slides down Jongin's body, her mouth parted open and her eyes lidded.

But Jongin's brow furrows suddenly as he adjusts his hold. His hand sliding across her torso to get a better grip, when he suddenly comes into contact with the underside of her breast. And he notes the difference in contour, softness where hardness should be. His eyes remain focused on her face, trying to convey the dance of fresh lovers, but while pretty, her lips aren't nearly as plush, and her eyes don't smile like Taemin's. 

And before Jongin can refocus, he hears Chanyeol sigh. "Ok, take a break."

Jongin lets go of Hyoyeon immediately, his hands coming up to rake through his sweaty dark hair. "Shit!" He curses under his breath as he stomps to the corner of the room and grabs a bottle of water.

He watches Chanyeol as the taller male walks to the corner of the room where the assistant boy is getting up to stand. He watches them whisper back and forth as their eyes go from Hyoyeon to Jongin and back to more whispering. 

Chanyeol's nodding quickly and then walking over to Hyoyeon, telling her to work on her arms and to let out of her turns quicker. She's nodding and smiling and then sending a friendly wave goodbye in Jongin's direction, one that he doesn't return.

Jongin takes a hefty gulp of water as Chanyeol approaches, already knowing what he's going to say. He stands and adresses the elder, "My ending was sloppy. I'll work on it."

Chanyeol lays a hand on Jongin's shoulder, causing the tanned dancer to straighten quickly. 

"Sloppy? You were great! Fantastic even! You move your body beautifully, Jongin," Chanyeol smiles -all teeth and gums- as he almost convinces Jongin that he did well.

But Jongin's not so easily swayed. He looks down. "But, my expression."

Chanyeol leans in conspiratorially and points his thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, he noticed that too, but it's ok we can work on it. Look, eventually, you're gonna have to look at her like you love her, and even if she's not your type, you have to make the audience believe she is. Remember, you're not Jongin in this workshop, you're playing the part of Kai. And Kai wants the girl.”

"I understand," Jongin says. 

"Good, now go get some rest. I'll see you in a couple days."

Jongin bits his lips in irritation, when he hears the ring of his cell phone behind him. He grabs the phone out of his bag and checks the caller ID before pressing the talk button.

"Jongin-ah, are you done with practice?"

"Yeah, just finished," he responds turning to watch Chanyeol and his assistant leave the studio.

"Can you come to my office real quick?"

Jongin frowns. He's expecting another meeting. "Sure."

Ten minutes later, he's knocking and entering Suho's office. The dorm leader looks up from his desk a little surprised.

"Oh hey, good. I need you to do me a favor."

Jongin doesn't reply and just waits for the elder to continue, but Suho frowns.

"Hey, what's up? You look more out of it than usual."

Jongin shrugs. He doesn't want to talk about it. "It's nothing, just tired."

Suho doesn't totally buy it, but decides to change the subject anyway. "I got a text from Taemin the other day."

That works.

Jongin's brow quirks up at the mention of Taemin's name. "You guys talk often?"

Suho shrugs casually. "I like to check up on him from time to time, make sure he's ok. I'm really glad you two hit it off, though. He needs someone strong like you in his life."

Jongin's brows furrow at that. He doesn't really know how strong he is. He may appear to be something on the outside, but he knows for sure that he's something entirely different on the inside. And the thought of someone needing him, is a little . . . unsettling.

Suho's surprised at the strange expressions crossing Jongin's features. The boy must really have a lot on his mind. "Anyway . . ." he says, attempting to snap the other out of it. "The reason I asked you here was because I wanted you to give him this for me."

Jongin slowly takes the tiny white box from Suho's extended hand.

"What is it?" 

"A Rosary. You still have yours too, right? I got him the same design."

Jongin stares at the white box like it's a snake about to bite him. Just the idea of the bracelet inside, has Jongin's hand starting to shake. He doesn't wear his anymore. Not because he lost it. But because it reminds him of _what_ he's lost. And the thought of seeing it everyday attached that pale, thin wrist that he finds so beautiful yet now so . . .

"Hey, are you really ok? Do you need-"

Jongin clutches the box and shakes his head. "No I got it, um. I gotta go. Thanks, I'll give it to him," he says quickly and just about runs out of Suho's office.

He jogs back to the dorms and stops before he can take the steps up to his floor because there's someone sitting in the dark. Jongin walks forward, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

"You're holding back," a boy says.

Jongin frowns hard as he moves closer to the boy. "What?"

And suddenly, the boy stands and comes into the light and Jongin's met with those dark judging eyes from earlier. 

"You're holding back," he says again. "There's passion there, deep down, I can tell . . . but it won't come to surface unless you allow it to."

Jongin rolls his eyes. He's so not in the mood for this and he's a little more than unnerved by the way the boy talks like he knows everything. He lets out a heavy breath and moves to walk past the shorter boy. "You got all that by watching me for a couple hours, huh?"

The boy turns. "No, but . . . It's the same problem your sister had."

Jongin freezes. He feels like someone just shot him with a stun gun, his entire body rendered paralyzed, but only momentarily. He blinks and turns, so quickly, he's surprised his neck doesn't snap, but the boy's walking off. 

"Wait!" Jongin yells and grabs him roughly by the arm. 

"Who are you!" He shouts, shaking the boy.

The boy winces, but then grabs Jongin's hand that's encircled around his arm and flips it over his head, twisting it into a bone crushing arm-bar. "Kyungsoo," the boy replies.

Jongin seethes, a low whine escaping his throat as the more he tries to move out of the boy's hold, the worse the pain gets. "I don't know any Kyungsoo," he grits.

"Probably not," Kyungsoo says and loosens his hold. 

"She called me D.O."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed <3


	8. Take Me Away

> **I'm here**

**Coming to get you now <**

  
Taemin let out a long breath as he stared down at the phone in his hands. He had spent a better part of the day trying to forget everything that had happened the night before. Practically willed himself to just erase it all away. The past, the present, the future . . . he didn't want to think about any of it. 

Taemin looked up and gazed at the now darkened windows of the coffee shop across the street. Tonight had been particularly busy, which he was thankful for. The more distractions the better and it made the time go by faster. Some people may find release from stress in a good movie, a great book, or simply a steaming perfectly brewed cup of coffee, but for Taemin, you can probably already guess what he does to escape. 

And at this point, it had only been a couple days without it and he was already at a boiling point. Like an itch that won't cease no matter how hard you scratch it. It's not until you feel the skin under your nails and the see the blood starting to seep out of fresh wounds that you realize just how far you've gone.

Just how deep you've sunk.

And Taemin knows he can either keep sinking or he can look up and take the hand being offered towards him. He can take the warm, strong hand that belongs to the boy in his dreams. The boy who looks at him in a way that's familiar yet different, which is comforting yet scary all at the same time.

Still, Taemin slips his smaller hand into the larger one and allows Jongin to pull him to his feet. But he can't help but take in a deep breath. Because for whatever reason, even though he's being brought up from the depths, he still feels like he's about to be swept out to sea. Taken away by the wave that is Kim Jongin. 

And just the thought brings a smile to Taemin's face and he giggles once his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

"What's so funny?" Jongin asks, his deep voice a welcome warmth in the emptiness of the night.

Taemin laughs again and shakes his head at his own foolishness, the loose strands of his pony tail giving way and flying across his cheeks. "Nothing. Just really itching to get moving, I guess."

Jongin nods and smiles as his hand slips out of Taemin's and into the front pockets of his hoodie. "As expected of a true dancer." 

Taemin meets Jongin's deep and thoughtful eyes. "You never get tired of it, right?" He asks.

Jongin shrugs. "When you live it twenty-four seven, you would think so. But It's kind of like . . ." Jongin trails off as he looks at a spot over Taemin's head. _What is dancing like? It's a tool isn't it? It's the beginning to the end. It's . . . "_ The yellow brick road."

Taemin laughs. "Huh?"

Jongin blushes slightly and runs a hand across the back of his neck. "You know, the path that leads to Oz."

"Ah!" Taemin nods. "Like a rainbow, dancing is like a rainbow."

Jongin tilts his head curiously and looks at Taemin. "What? No. How is it a rainbow?"

"When you follow the rainbow, you'll find the pot of gold at the end, right?"

Jongin shakes his head completely dumbfounded, but finds he can't help but smirk at Taemin's logic. "Ok, sure, but my analogy is better."

But now Taemin's the one shaking his head. "Definitely not. The yellow brick road wasn't just the path to Oz, everybody knows that."

Jongin's eyes spark instantly. He can't help but feel a little excited by the challenging tone in Taemin's voice. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Ok, genius, enlighten me then."

Taemin feels a little hot under Jongin's burning gaze so he looks away and starts to play with the sleeves of his shirt. "The yellow brick road was never about the ending," Taemin says softly. He would know, he's seen the movie countless times. 

"It was about . . . getting there . . . together." Taemin looks up, his eyes sparkling in the dark from the streetlights surrounding the school entrance. "It was about the journey."

Jongin lets out a heavy breath. He moves forward and cups Taemin's face in his hands. His eyes searching the others, wanting to understand how such a person could exist.

Taemin's a bit startled at first and his hands reach up to grasp lightly onto Jongin's wrists. His eyes equally searching and for a split second he thinks Jongin might kiss him so he can't help but lick his lips in anticipation.

Jongin doesn't miss the cute pink tongue that smooths across the pretty puckered flesh. He thinks he might be ADD for how quickly his mind is distracted by those glistening and parted lips, just waiting to be sucked into his mouth. But he shakes his head to clear it. He looks into Taemin's pure and sweet eyes wondering if the boy really did come from a place of complete and total optimism. Suho had mentioned before that Taemin used to be bullied . . . so how is it that he's not jaded by all that pain?

Jongin frowns, wanting to understand. "I wish I could see things like you do," he says, voice low and soothing as the pads of his thumbs make circles against Taemin's silky skin.

Taemin's parted mouth falls open a centimeter more before he blinks and laughs. He refuses to overthink everything that Jongin says to him. Otherwise, they'll never get anywhere. "Hey, you never know. You keep hanging around me, I just might rub off on you," he teases, feeling it strangely necessary in this suddenly charged atmosphere.

And Jongin smiles back lazily and unassuming. "I hope so," he answers simply before inclining his head. "Come on." 

Taemin stays still for a moment and just revels in the way Jongin's fingers trail slowly off his cheeks. He watches Jongin's tall form walk slowly up the steps towards the school entrance. He closes his eyes and feels a shiver rush through him. Be it excitement or nervousness, Taemin doesn't know, he just shakes it away and skips off in the direction of the other, ready to start dancing.

And as Taemin and Jongin make their way through the deserted halls of the school and round the corner, they notice the light in the practice room is still on. 

Jongin frowns and stops. He glances at Taemin and motions for him to wait as he goes ahead. Taemin nods and stays hidden in the hallway as he watches Jongin walk up to the door and peek in.

The next thing you know, the lights in the practice room go out and Jongin is suddenly hit in the chest by a smaller person.

"Oh! Sorry, Jongin." 

Taemin watches the altercation from his spot a few feet away. A tiny girl with long blonde hair, wearing a black leotard and pink tights grasps onto Jongin's bicep to steady herself after bumping into him.

Jongin blinks down at his dance partner, whom simply smiles back up at him. 

Hyoyeon doesn't remove the hand on Jongin's arm as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Late practice, huh?"

Jongin nods. 

Hyoyeon glances quickly into the now darkened studio behind her before looking back up at Jongin. "I just finished, but I could stay if you need some help?"

Taemin feels a strange stinging sensation start to prick his entire body. His face falls as he unconsciously clutches the jam of a closed door by his side. That's Jongin's dance partner? The one he didn't think was pretty? Was that a joke? 

Jongin takes Hyoyeon's hand that is resting on his arm. "Thank you for the offer but-" he looks at Taemin, "I have someone I've been working with." 

Hyoyeon's eyes follow Jongin's gaze and land on the tiny figure partly obscured by the darkness of the unlit hallway. 

"Taemin," Jongin's deep voice calls softly.

Taemin sees two sets of eyes staring at him expectantly and he suddenly feels like the shy kid on presentation day. He swallows and wills himself to move forward. 

Hyoyeon's eyes widen as the tiny figure materializes before her. Like a flying wraith, his black sneaker-clad feet move across the floor so lightly, she has to strain to hear his footsteps. Her first thought is _'wow he's really thin._ ' But upon closer inspection, one can easily spot the lightly muscled calves that disappear into baggy cotton capris and the strength in his shoulders as revealed by the boat neck tee that's currently exposing a delicate collarbone but . . . _wait does this boy even go to this school?_

And as much time as Hyoyeon could spend sizing up her partner's partner, she's more interested in Jongin, and they way he's also gazing at the pretty boy before them.

"Ahhh . . . I see," She says slowly, the pieces finally coming together. 

"Um . . . Hello," Taemin says lightly and respectfully. 

The elder girl smiles and sighs. She pats Jongin on the shoulder before walking passed the two boys. "Well, see you at practice. Work hard!"

Taemin watches her walk off into the dark before turning and following Jongin into the dance room. Taemin inclines his head forward to gauge Jongin's expression. "She was nice," he supplies.

Jongin glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "Hm? Oh yeah, she's nice. A really good dancer too," he says casually and flips on the lights.

"And . . . pretty," Taemin elaborates, his fingers threading together behind his back.

"Oh? You think so?" Jongin raises a single eyebrow, smirk in place as he shoots back what seems like a challenging question.

Taemin's brow quirks in confusion. He didn't understand. "Um . . . well. I thought you said . . ."

But Jongin just looks at him expectantly and Taemin shakes his head. "Never mind." He waves as he walks in to the room and finally takes a look around. 

"Oh!" Taemin's eyes widen and his jaw falls open. "There's a bed!"

Jongin smirks, bending down to slip into his black slippers. "I told you there was a sex scene."

Taemin turns, clearly perplexed. "Huh?"

Jongin straightens. "Close your mouth and I'll show you."

"Show me?" Taemin questions in a whisper, his skin heating up at the mere thought.

"Don't get too excited." Jongin teases as he walks over to Taemin and scoops him up into his arms, bridal-style. He deposits the lighter, flustered boy on to the twin size bed placed artistically in the middle of the room. Nothing but a light sheet covering a mattress on metal frames.

Jongin slips off Taemin's sneakers. "Scoot all the way to the back," he instructs.

And Taemin does until he can feel the metal bars of the bed frame digging into his shoulder blades. He watches Jongin move around the side of the bed until he plants one foot on the spot beside him. 

Jongin leans down and trails the back of his hand up Taemin's side, not touching, merely skimming up his torso, shoulder, neck, and hair before bracing both arms unto the metal bed frame and scissoring his legs into the air, toes pointed and legs fully extended, everything straight and smooth, until he slides down on to the bed and lays fully on to his back.

Taemin watches, mesmerized and flushed. He can feel the nervous beat of his heart as it pulses against that prominent point on the side of his neck. 

Jongin smirks as he leans up and places his hands on Taemin's waist. "Now, your character is supposed to seduce mine," he says as he guides Taemin up until the other boy is standing before him.

Taemin wordlessly allows himself to follow Jongin's instructions. Too shocked or scared or excited to do anything else. 

"Put one hand on the bar and lift your right leg up and out," Jongin says, his hands skimming down the side of Taemin's left leg until he can feel the muscles tense from bearing all of his weight on one leg. 

"Good," Jongin murmurs as he runs his hand back up Taemin's left leg, only this time along the inside of his thigh, just barely missing his member, only to continue trailing along the inside of Taemin's lifted right leg. 

Taemin bites his lips to keep from uttering a completely embarrassing sound and he thinks he might spontaneously combust from the super intimate way Jongin's fingers are fluttering against the thin fabric of his cotton capris. But he'd be lying if he said he wanted him to stop.

"Now, do the splits until your laying on top of me."

Taemin shakes his head to make sure he's not just making this all up. But as he glances down at Jongin's hooded eyes that seem to burn straight through him, he tries to pretend like this is just like any other performance. He simply has to act the part. 

Taemin nods quickly and raises both hands into the air as he slides one leg forward. He can feel the sting of stretching muscles and tendons until a sharp pain erupts on the back of his leg and he falls forward completely on top of Jongin.

"Ow, ow, ow!" He grits.

Jongin's eyes go wide as he catches a falling Taemin. "What? What happened?" 

"I got a cramp!" Taemin cries, as the back of his calf starts to spasm violently.

Jongin laughs loud and deep. "You're supposed to be a dancer!"

"Well, I don't normally do the splits ok! I'm not as flexible as you!" Taemin shoots back, feeling embarrassed and offended.

Jongin raises a single eyebrow and bites his tongue from saying something inappropriate, but Taemin glares at him anyway.

"What?" Jongin asks innocently.

"I see you, Kim Jongin."

"Oh? Do you? And what do you see?"

Taemin blinks and suddenly forgets the pain in his leg. He wasn't expecting a question like that. What does he see when he looks at Jongin? Besides the surface of gorgeous tanned skin, rutty lips and brooding eyes? Honestly . . . words couldn't express. Because Jongin was clearly much more than just that. Jongin was deeper than that.

But at Taemin's prolonged silence, Jongin chuckles. "Really? You see nothing? I'm kind of hurt."

Jongin places a hand against his heart dramatically and Taemin smacks his chest playfully. "No you're not." Taemin smiles.

"I will be, if my favorite dance partner can't do a proper split."

Taemin rolls his eyes as he messages his leg. "Ok let's start over. I'll do it right the next time, just you watch." 

* * *

**Two Hours Later**

Taemin lets out an exhausted breath and collapses on top of Jongin. 

"Yah, you're heavy." Jongin lies, but squirms a bit to further his fib.

Taemin smiles and wraps his arms around Jongin's waist, pressing his body further in to the other male's and effectively trying to put all of his weight onto the other.

Jongin laughs, the deep hearty sound vibrating against Taemin's cheek. 

"Ok, you. You wanna play?" He challenges.

And before Taemin can retort, Jongin grabs him by his hips and flips them over, the taller tanned male, now on top of the shorter fairer one.

Jongin then starts tickling Taemin relentlessly, his fingers poking into the tender flesh of his sides, abdomen and ribs.

And Taemin finds himself laughing so hard that he can't breathe with the extra weight on top of him. 

"Jongin!" He pants and squirms as the other seems to know every one of his sensitive spots.

Jongin relents only when Taemin starts to turn blue and he rolls them onto their sides so they are now facing each other. 

Jongin's eyes scan Taemin's smiling face. "You're cute," he says with a lazy smirk.

Taemin looks away and curses the blush that creeps up to his cheeks. "Whatever, you're sweaty!" He shoots back and sticks his tongue out at the other. 

Jongin shakes his head and laughs again, finding the charms of Lee Taemin endless. "You're right. You wanna shower first?" He asks and brushes a sweaty strand of hair from Taemin's face. 

Taemin smiles back, feeling warm and comfortable laying in a prop bed alone with Jongin after dancing their hearts out for hours straight. He thinks nothing can get any better than this as he curls an arm under his head before shaking it. "I'm fine. You go ahead. I'll just shower when I get home."

Jongin raises his eyebrows in confusion. "What? You wanna walk home all sweaty?"

Taemin shrugs. "I kind of like it. I can just pretend that I was dancing in the rain." 

Jongin smiles wide, an evil spark suddenly igniting in his eyes. "Oh you wanna dance in the rain? I'll show you dancing in the rain," he says as he grabs Taemin's arms and slings the tiny boy around his shoulders. He leads a laughing and kicking Taemin towards the showers.

Once in the empty, tiled group-style showers, Jongin turns on the tap and steps in fully clothed with Taemin still hanging off his back.

"Ah! It's cold!" Taemin cries as he smacks at Jongin's back and tries to flee.

"Oh no you don't!" Jongin catches Taemin's wet t-shirt and drags him back underneath the shower head. 

But Taemin turns, smiling just as evilly and grabs the head of the detachable water head and turns it to spray Jongin right in the face.

Jongin lets go of Taemin's shirt as water goes in his eyes and up his nose, but he can't help but smile when he hears the tinkling laughter erupting from Taemin who is merely a foot away.

Jongin lets Taemin have his fun before turning the tables and grabbing the other boy firmly, placing them chest to soaking chest and effectively letting Taemin now get the full brunt of the assault as well.

Taemin laughs as he chokes and finally just collapses to the shower floor. 

Jongin turns off the water and bends down. "You ok?"

Taemin wipes his eyes and nose and tries to breathe through his wheezing laughter. Taemin nods. "I'm ok." 

Jongin smiles and sits down on the wet floor and smooths the wet strands of hair away from Taemin's face.

"You really like my hair huh?" Teamin teases.

"Mmm . . ." Jongin hums. "It's beautiful."

Taemin smiles but looks away. He's used to hearing things like that. But he wonders if that's all Jongin sees. He used to think his looks would allow him advantages in life over others, but he quickly learned that beauty can only get you so far. After all, it fades with time. It's what's underneath all that, that Taemin wants Jongin to see, understand and maybe even like . . .

And even if not, he's grateful for the chance to show him. 

"Thanks," Taemin whispers as he watches the water drip from the ends of his hair. "That was definitely more fun than dancing in the rain." 

"Yeah?" Jongin asks.

"Yeah." Taemin nods and finally looks up at the other boy. "Dancing in the rain feels great, but it's . . . kind of lonely when you're just dancing by yourself."

Jongin smiles and nudges Taemin in the shoulder. "Hey, tell you what? Next time it rains, give me a call and I'll come and dance with you."

Taemin blinks quickly at looks at Jongin, thinking he's still probably kidding, but Jongin's eyes don't lie. They feel sincere. And either way, he thinks it's probably the sweetest thing someone's ever said to him. Taemin wanted to hug the boy close and never let him go, but settled for another quiet, ". . . Thanks."

Jongin shakes his head. "No. Thank you."

"For what?"

Jongin leans in, resting his forehead against the other. "For just being here," he whispers.

They are the very same words that Taemin uttered the first night they met. Because now, and only now does Jongin understand. And the tanned male can't help but wonder if Taemin's perhaps a wizard or mystical being because as he watches the smile that spreads across the other's face, he swears he has seen no greater magic. And as Jongin slides his hands around the wet and tiny boy crouched cutely in the shower stall with him, he closes his eyes and gives himself away. To let Taemin's spell overtake him completely and transport him to a place where the yellow brick road stops being merely the path to Oz.

To a place where the pot of gold is simply forgotten and he can just stop and enjoy the rainbow for what it is.

Even if it's all just one big optical illusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope You Enjoyed <3


	9. Searching for Meaning

The funny thing about time, is that while some things can change drastically, other things seems to stay painfully the same. Case in point being when lunchtime rolls around and Taemin walks up to his locker, there's yet again, a piece of paper stuck to the front.

Not whore this time, instead simply . . . slut. 

Which is comical, really, and Taemin sees the irony in it, to the point that he smiles and walks up to his locker with an unusual amount of aloofness. He ignores the words and the paper, opens his locker and puts his books inside.

"Agh, again?" comes a deep voice. Taemin peeks from behind his open locker door and spots Minho a few feet away, soccer ball in hand and cleats adorning his feet, but his expression is one of surprised disgust. Taemin frowns for a second as he shuts the door to his locker slowly, but then suddenly realizes. "Oh! I forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Minho asks absently as he walks up to the other boy, his eyes focused on the degrading text currently on display. Taemin notices the other boy's distracted gaze and he too turns his head to look back at the note. "That . . . we were gonna play today," Taemin says slowly as he watches Minho's hand reach up to snatch the paper off his locker.

"No wait!" Taemin shouts, his hand shooting out and catching Minho's hand.

Minho turns, eyes wide and lips jutting out, completely baffled by the younger. "You want this on your locker?!"

Taemin's a little surprised at how mad the other boy is. I mean it's not like the word is directed at him, so why should he care so much? He gives the taller boy a look as he brings their hands back down. "Of course I don't want it there, but it doesn't matter. If you take it down, another one will just replace it."

Minho frowns. "So you just ignore it?"

Taemin shrugs as he reads the word again.

**S L U T**

It has no meaning to him. He knows it's suppose to hurt him and embarrass him, but he's been there and done that by now. 

However, as he feels the eyes of his classmates and hears the snickers and whispers under their breaths, he supposes it's not really just about him anymore.

And he suddenly begins to feel sorry for Minho. Who, regardless of how far his status may be boggled down by his association with the "weird, awkward, whore, slut, pretty boy that doesn't talk a lot" he still keeps coming back, asking him to play soccer for their forty-five minute lunch hour day after day.

He doesn't want the word to hurt or embarrass his new . . . friend? So he does the only thing he can think of.

Taemin takes out a black fine tip sharpie from his pocket. He writes an A in between the S and L, and an E after the T.

"There. Much better, right?" Taemin smiles and looks back at Minho.

Minho stares in amused amazement at the piece of paper taped to Taemin's locker. What was once a derogatory lie magically transformed into a gesture of pride. So simple, yet so different.

  
**SAL U TE**

"I didn't ignore it. I just changed it's meaning."

Minho smiles down at the younger and ruffles his hair, a warmhearted feeling overtaking him. He doesn't know when the need to protect him from whoever found it necessary to bring him down began, but he supposes the best way to do that is to show him what true friends are for. "Come on then, let's go play some soccer."

Taemin laughs and nods excitedly, but also feels a slight apprehension. Like he's cheating on dance with soccer or something, but he ends up shaking his head because that's just crazy.

Taemin follows Minho to the courtyard where they start passing the ball back and forth. Unfortunately, Taemin forgot his cleats, so he's stuck playing in sneakers and jeans, but that's no big deal. The sun is bright and the wind is slight, which makes the day absolutely perfect.

One thing's for sure, Taemin has been around guys his whole life. His brother, his cousin, Jonghyun from the club, Suho from church, and his boss, Xiumin, but he can tell you for a fact that none of them are like Kim Jongin.

And he only recently started to understand the difference, particularly when he talks with Minho. The boy whose tall, tan and baritone just like the dancer, but the two might as well be like fire and ice, for they feel entirely different.

Minho lets out a breath as he passes the ball to Taemin. "So, your crazy cousin, where does he go to school?"

Taemin smiles as he catches the ball with the side of his foot and starts moving towards the goal with it. "Oh, Key dropped out," he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Minho moves forward to try and steal the ball from Taemin. "Dropped out? Why?"

Taemin's quick on his feet and manages to evade Minho's long legs that try and come in between his. "Oh you know . . . family stuff. He needed to help out with the business. A certain club," he says shyly and looks up from the ball.

Minho seizes the chance of distraction and steals the ball away, kicking it up and bumping it with his knee in the opposite direction Taemin was taking it in.

"Hey, no fair!" Taemin whines as he turns and runs after the ball.

"Hahaha . . . you need to learn to talk and play at the same time."

"Well, you're supposed to go easy on me. I'm a beginner!" Taemin yells as he catches up to the other boy.

Minho chuckles. "Please, if I did that, you'd never get any better."

Taemin rolls his eyes as he tries to steal the ball. Their legs tangle together before Taemin trips and falls back on his butt.

Taemin feels the grass under his hands and the slight pain in his rear as he sighs and takes in a refreshing breath. He lies all the way down.

Minho chuckles and joins him on the grass. After a moment or two of sky gazing, he suddenly speaks, "Man, I could never imagine having to quit school."

Taemin rolls on his side and plays with the grass. "Key seems ok with it actually. I mean, there's a lot of things you can do without school."

Minho nods and gazes at the younger. "Like you with your dancing?"

Taemin shrugs. "Sure if that's what I wanted to do," he says, not looking up.

Minho raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Is it not?"

Taemin pouts. "I thought I might try and become a professional soccer player."

At which, Minho snorts and looks cross eyed at the giggling boy. "That's only funny because that's exactly what I'm supposed to do."

Taemin stops laughing in surprise. "Really?"

"Really."

"You don't too sound excited?" Taemin questions.

Minho shrugs. "I guess it's fine. I mean I like soccer and I'm good at it, I just wish I had the choice though. You know, to just do whatever."  
  
"Why, what do you want to do?"

Minho makes an L shape with his fingers and then brings both hands together like a square. He peers at Taemin through his imaginary camera. "When I was little I really wanted to be a photographer."

"I see." Taemin smiles.

"What about you?"

"Me? Oh, after high school, I'll hopefully be able to go full-time at the coffee shop."

"To save money?"

"Yeah."

"For what?"

"Minho-yah!" 

Both boys sit up at the girly shriek from across the field. Taemin sees a dark-haired rather tall girl running over to them and starts to get up. 

"Sulli, don't run, you'll fall!" Minho yells. "She's so clumsy." He chuckles.

As stated before, Taemin's been around guys his whole life and he knows what girls mean: trouble. So he avoids them at all costs and since Minho seems familiar with the pretty girl, it's probably his girlfriend so he hastily makes his exit.

"Hey I gotta pee really bad, I'll catch up with you later," he says and dashes away.

"Wait!" Minho calls as soon as Sulli reaches him, but Taemin's long gone. 

Sulli places her hands on her knees and takes a deep breath. "Isn't that, that weird guy?"

Minho frowns at the girl. "Don't say that! Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

She looks up through her lashes, a smile on her face. "I don't know, Oppa, did they?" She teases her brother.

* * *

Five hours later

Across town in the very familiar coffee shop, Jongin can't keep his knee still under the table as he waits for his companion to arrive. To say that he's on edge would be an understatement, but he'll do his best to remain calm. He's not sure what the boy knows or what he's willing to tell him, but he's going to try to pry for answers none-the-less.

Twenty minutes later the door opens and in walks the boy with big eyes. He spots Jongin easily. The boy's dark hair is half matted with sweat and half in a messy disarray that seems startlingly attractive. He can spot the differences though, in skin tone and facial structure . . . but the brooding countenance, the unwavering air, is exactly the same.

He takes a deep breath and makes his way into the booth across from the boy.

"Hey," D.O. starts.

Jongin stares straight ahead, suddenly unsure of how to begin.

"So, cute place, huh?" D.O offers, his eyes scanning the quaint shop, but he's really just trying to break the ice.

"Why are you here?" Jongin asks. 

D.O.'s a little startled, he looks around confused. "Weren't you the one who asked me to come?"

Jongin shakes his head. "Not _here_ here. I mean why are you assisting Chanyeol?"

D.O. levels his gaze. "You mean, did I know you would be one of the dancers he was going to be working with?"

Jongin's eyes barely flinch, he's not going to give anything away. Not until he finds out whose side this D.O. is on. 

"I didn't know." 

Jongin can't tell if he's is lying or not. He crosses his arms over his chest. "So now that you know. Do you have something to tell me?"

"Yes, but not what you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"No, but you two are far more similar than I imagined. Both bossy and stubborn."

Jongin squints. This isn't going to be easy, so he tries a different approach. "So how well did you know my sister?"

D.O. lets out a breath as he brings his hands to rest on the table. "I met her when she first joined the company. I was working in the admissions office at the time, as I'm clearly not a dancer."

"Clearly." Jongin smirks giving the boy a once over. "No offense."

D.O. rolls his eyes. "Anyway, we chatted every now and then and grew closer. I would stay late and help her with her dancing and she would gush about her cute little brother that was so talented and spectacular. She used to talk you up so much, I always wished I could meet you, just to see if you really existed."

"Impressed?"

D.O. studies the young attractive dancer. That calculated smirk, those deep betraying eyes. "After watching you dance, I can see what she saw, but I can also see something she never intended."

"And what's that?" Jongin challenges.

"The barrier. The rough, impossible wall that you've built up to protect yourself. It really shows in your dancing, you know."

Jongin sighs and runs an irritated hand through his messy locks. He doesn't need to hear this. He already knows his strengths and weaknesses. "That's not why I asked to meet with you."

"I know," D.O. says quickly, "and I'm telling you, you won't get the answer you're looking for, not in the state you're in now."

"Are you protecting someone?"

"Of course I am, and not just one person. Your sister's death affected a lot of people."

Jongin frowns and slams his fist against the table. "What right do you have to keep this information from me? She was my sister!" He shouts.

D.O. leans forward across the table, pointing to his chest, "Because I was there ok?!" He yells back. 

And the two boys probably would have continued their shouting match had Xiumin not passed by and cleared his throat.

D.O. only then looked around at the attention they had received from the other coffee patrons and brought himself back down to a normal speaking level. "Our connections may be different but our grief is the same. It's been three years already, Jongin, yet it seems you're the only one that hasn't moved on. Why is that?"

Jongin scoffs, his skepticism growing. "You don't really know anything do you? You're just trying to waste my time!"

"Even if you knew, it wouldn't change what's already been done."

Jongin lets out a heavy breath as he moves to stand. "I'm not listening to any more of this."

"Listen," D.O. cuts in, "before she died, you might not know this, but she didn't love dancing anymore. Somehow, someway, she started to lose herself and she was becoming someone I couldn't talk to. And what scares me the most, is that when I see you dance, I see her. I see her poise and strength reflected in your movements, but I see her sadness in your eyes."

Jongin stands and looks down at the pleading boy, but he can't help but feel that his motivations are purely selfish. "So what, you feel guilty or something? You think you're just gonna befriend her screwed up little brother and try to atone for not being there when she died?"

D.O. sits back and takes in Jongin's words. As harsh as they are, they speak the truth. Another thing they have in common, both siblings really know how to read between the lines. D.O. closes his eyes and counts to three before answering. "Yes," he admits and opens his eyes, "but she would say it's a like a coin toss, right?"

Jongin pales as he stares into D.O.'s large dark eyes. He feels himself getting lost in them. Transporting him to another time and place.

_I didn't make it. They didn't pick me._

_Jongin-ah, you didn't make it **this time**. They didn't pick you **this time**. Just like two sides of a coin, you call heads the first time and tails the second, because there's always a second chance to get it right._

And Jongin can't help the tears he feels escape his eyes and fall down his cheeks.

D.O. looks alarmed at the suddenly crying boy. He jumps up and out of the booth to comfort the younger, but Jongin holds up a hand to stop him.

"I'm sorry," he says gruffly and covers his face, "I have to go. I need to practice, but . . . we'll talk again. We'll keep talking until you tell me the truth." 

* * *

Four hours later

When Taemin arrives at the steps to the school, Jongin's already there waiting. His hands in the front pockets of his hoodie, dressed in his usual black tights and sneakers. His handsome face looks tired though, his eyes weak as he stares at nothing on the ground.

Taemin walks over and bends down in front of the distracted boy. He leans in. "Hey," he chirps lightly, causing Jongin to jerk back out of shock. "You ok?" 

Jongin's momentarily brought back to earth at the sound of Taemin's airy alto. He looks up and blinks at the smiling boy in front of him. "Hm? Yeah, I'm good. Just . . . stuff."

"Mmm . . . yeah." Taemin hums and goes to sit next to Jongin on the steps, but the hard concrete causes him to wince as it comes into contact with the bruised flesh of his bum.

Now it's Jongin's turn. "Hey, you ok?" 

Taemin smiles and nods. "You know . . . stuff," He replies playfully, those pretty eyes of his twinkling with lightheartedness. 

Jongin lets out a breath as if his troubles are that easily dispelled and smiles back and wraps a lazy arm around the smaller boy's shoulders. He hugs him to his side and leans into his long silky hair. "You want to know all my secrets?" He whispers.

Taemin feels a blush rise to his cheeks at Jongin's proximity. His mysterious question uttered low on an exhaled breath that he can feel slide across his cheek. It reminds him of how he felt earlier in the day and firmly solidifies the fact that Kim Jongin feels so much different than anyone else. Taemin feels like he's on a roller coaster every time the other dancer is near. His heart flip flops from nervous to excited to pure contentment in seconds flat. His body heats up and his palms sweat, but it's like the most nerve-wrackingly amazing feeling ever. And it's a feeling he's never had before.   
  
Taemin sighs and leans in closer. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," he responds.

And with that, both boy's look at each other. And there's this moment where no words are really needed. They get what the other is trying to say.

Basically, I'm ready when you are.

And that's how it ends, just as it began. The two get up from the steps and walk hand in hand to the dance studio. Jongin flicks on the lights and Taemin walks over to the bed.

But Taemin notices a new addition to the room. Sitting on a three in a half foot tripod.

"What's with the camera?"

  
Jongin smirks and looks at Taemin. "You've never filmed yourself practicing before?"

Taemin pouts and shrugs as he takes off his shoes. "Nope."

"Well, you should. There are some things you can't see when you're just looking in the mirror," Jongin says walking over to the camera and pressing the record button.

"Mm . . ." Taemin muses, "the camera doesn't lie right?"

"Exactly." 

"Heh." Taemin chuckles and covers his mouth. "Feels like we're about to shoot a porno or something."

Jongin raises a finger to his lips, indicating they're indeed on camera and Taemin blushes as they start their choreography.

* * *

  
Two hours later

Taemin sighs in contentment as Jongin says they can stop for the night. He reaches under the bed for his shoes when his hands touch something smooth and hard. He bends down and picks up the object or objects.

"Oh! These are ballerina shoes right?" He says holding up a pair of black pointe shoes.

Jongin brings the bottom of his hoodie up to wipe the sweat from his face as he walks over to turn off the camera. He looks behind him and sees what Taemin is holding. "Ah, Hyoyeon must have forgotten them."

"Wow, they're a lot harder than I thought they'd be," Taemin says trying to squeeze them.

Jongin chuckles.

"Hey, where are yours?" 

Jongin snorts. "Silly. Guys don't wear pointe shoes, unless they're performing a female part," he says and presses stop on the camera.

"Ah . . ." Taemin nods, "so I should try them on huh?" He asks playfully.

"Be careful, you could break an ankle," Jongin warns as he walks back to the bed.

"How hard can they be? They're just slippers." Taemin says slipping them on and standing up.

"Whoa, they feel weird. Let's see if I can go . . . up!" Taemin wobbles his arms swaying all about to maintain balance as he tries to stand on his tip toes.

"Careful!" Jongin yells.

At that moment Taemin falls forward. However, Jongin's sweaty hoodie covered chest is there and his arms come around Taemin's tiny waist.

"What did I say?" Jongin asks, shaking his head.

Taemin laughs as he braces both hands on Jongin's shoulders. He looks up and smiles. "I guess I'm not cut out to be the girl after all."

Jongin's eyes darken as that sultry smirk slides into place. He digs his fingers deeper in to Taemin's hips and lets them slide down the smaller boy's lower back, just a hair away from the flesh of his ass. "I don't know about that." Jongin says biting his lips in appreciation of Taemin's body. 

Taemin hides his face in Jongin's chest to conceal his embarrassment, but Jongin's hands and arms have always felt so good against his body. He takes a breath and tries to think of something funny or witty to retort back with but finds his mind in a complete mess.

That is until one of Jongin's hands does finally slide down over the curve of his ass and cup hard through the thin fabric of his skinny jeans.

  
Taemin gasps and looks up at Jongin's face, whose dark eyes are trained solely on Taemin's lips. Taemin wets them and nods, letting the other know it's ok as Jongin's other hand cups the back of Taemin's head, his fingers threading through the dampened hair at his nape.

  
And in the next moment, their lips touch. Not strong and rushed or overly passionate. Just touching, grazing, rubbing . . . feeling. And it feels good. It feels relaxed and natural, it doesn't feel put on or forced. It feels as if they were lovers just enjoying each other.

And as their lips separate, Taemin begs the question on an uncertain whisper, "Are we still practicing?"

  
Luckily for Jongin as his eyes widen and he opens his mouth to speak, a cell phone rings in the back pocket of Taemin's pants.

And they both blink as Jongin carefully brings Taemin down to sit on the bed. He silently watches the other retrieve the phone and answer it. 

"Hello?"  
  
"Taemin-ah," comes the scrambled voice on the other end. 

"Hello?" Taemin asks again and covers his exposed ear. "Mom, I can barely hear you."

"Taemin-ah, listen to me. Can you stay with Kibum for a few days?" His mother whispers in a rush, clearly preoccupied. 

Taemin's face falls as his hands clutch the phone tighter. He immediately knows something is wrong.

"D-dad's home, isn't he?" 

"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you," she says quickly.

And then the line goes dead.

Taemin takes the phone away from his ear slowly, just staring straight ahead. He wasn't prepared for that. Not so soon. How long had it been since his father had come home?

Jongin brings a hand up to cup Taemin's cheek. "Hey, what is it?" He asks softly.

Taemin's eyes meet Jongin's worried ones. He smiles and touches the hand that's against his cheek.

"Nothing," he says trying to cover.

But Jongin presses, clearly seeing the distressed look overtake the other. "It didn't sound like nothing. You said your dad was home?"

"It's just . . . my dad and I, we . . . don't get along."

Jongin shrugs. "Everybody's got problems with their parents, believe me."

"I know." Taemin smiles and nods. He knows he's probably overly sensitive to the situation. It's just hard to overcome things you've had to deal with for so long. "I guess . . . I don't know, sometimes I just wish things would get better between us."

"Yeah." Jongin nods. "But sometimes it's not that easy. For me, the more my parents pull me in, the more I push back."

Taemin frowns. "Why? Why do you push back?"

"Cause I've got something to prove." 

"But what if you don't know what you're pushing up against? What if you don't know what you're doing wrong?" Taemin asks, but it sounds a little desperate.

Jongin searches Taemin's eyes. "We always have something we need to prove, don't we?"

Taemin's brow twitches as he tries to process Jongin's words. Is that true? Was he missing something? Is there something he needs to do? But what?

And Jongin can see that his words only further seem to exasperate the boy in front of him. He moves to sit on the bed next to Taemin.

"Well, what does he say when you talk to him?"

Taemin laughs and looks down at his hands. "That's just it, we don't talk. When I'm home, he's not there and when he's there, I'm not."

Jongin nods. "Yeah . . . I guess we're the same. I haven't been home in awhile. It always leads to an argument anyway." 

"I just don't really remember when it happened or why, I just know it's gotten worse somehow. To the point that my mother would rather me avoid him at all costs. I don't know, maybe it's better that way."

"I think . . . if you want something bad enough, you'll do anything to make it right."

Taemin looks at Jongin. "But I'm afraid."

"Of your father?"

Taemin shakes his head. "I'm afraid that I won't be able to make it right. No matter how hard I try. And then one day I'll wake up, and they'll just tell me not to ever come back. Like one day I'll just have to . . . disappear."

"Hey," Jongin says and pinches Taemin's cheek.

"Ow!" Taemin cries, covering the side of face.

"You felt that right?"

"Yeah, that really hurt!" Taemin says taken aback by the sudden action. 

Jongin slides his hand under Taemin's and rubs the injured spot soothingly. "Good, then that means you're alive. And as long as you're alive, you can't disappear. No matter where you go."

Jongin's words are so strong and encouraging and filled with something Taemin's longed for his entire life; strength. And the truth is, he's not afraid he'll disappear, necessarily.

He's afraid that no one will miss him when he's gone. 

Jongin sighs and drops his hand. It falls into Taemin's where he begins to play with the other boy's tiny fingers. "So, where are you off to for the night then?"

"Mmm . . . my cousin's. He's got an apartment." Taemin says, letting his fingers graze softly against Jongin's.

"He's waiting on you?"

"Hm?" Taemin asks, looking up. "Oh, no he's at work. I'll just wait outside his door. He'll probably get in a little after midnight or so."

"Hmm . . ." Jongin hums as he turns and checks the clock on the wall. "It's only 11, so we have some time to kill, huh?" He asks turning back to Taemin.

"We?"

Jongin raises an eyebrow. "Does my presence displease you?"

Taemin gapes. "Huh? No! Definitely not."

Jongin chuckles. "Good. Then lay with me, I'm tired." He says throwing a heavy arm over the other's chest and bringing Taemin down against the bed. 

Taemin laughs as Jongin proceeds to throw a leg over him, effectively trapping him in his embrace.

But Taemin's more than ok with this as he giggles and snuggles closer to other male. And somehow, someway . . . they let their eyes close.

And even though their dreams are entirely different, they're both exactly the same.

Because they're both simply searching for meaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed <3


	10. What is Love?

It’s amazing what sleeping next to another person really feels like. The warmth of their body heat can be sweltering. To the point that your own body is inexplicably drenched in sweat. So your first instinct is to push that heat away, because it’s overwhelming and never-ending. That is, until the liquid that has collected upon your skin cools and you’re suddenly so chilled to the bone that your fingers wind around a broad back and your feet curl in between long legs. And essentially it’s a cycle, a constant push and pull, always looking for comfort in an uncomfortable situation.

It’s a lot like love.

Not that Taemin knows much about the subject, he’s never be in love before. But do you have to actually experience something to truly be able to understand it?

Taemin rolls on to his side, the uncomfortable spring mattress creaking under his shift in weight, and sees the empty space beside him. He trails a finger over the cold and rough sheets of the bed, outlining the figure of a body that has been long since imprinted into the mattress pad. He doesn’t know how many minutes have passed since he’s been simply laying in bed, lost in thought, but he sits up when the door to the bathroom opens and the light from the bathroom window shines into his sleepy eyes.

“You finally up? Come on, get ready,” Keys says, ruffling his wet hair with a towel as he exits the bathroom and moves to stand in front of a sleepy Taemin.

Taemin pouts and lets his body sway back and fall into the springy mattress below. “Can’t I just hang out with you all day?”

Key sighs as he looks at his cousin, whom he found sleeping outside his apartment door around 3AM the night before. “No, you can’t. I have a date. And I’d appreciate a phone call the next time you’re going to be staying over.”

“Sorry.” Taemin laughs. “I keep forgetting your phone number.”

“What?!” Key gapes and throws his damp towel at Taemin. “I’ve known you your entire life and you’ve never saved it in your phone?”

Taemin chuckles, tossing the towel right back at Key. “You’re the one who always calls me.”

Key purses his lips and gives the younger boy a look. “Well, maybe I won’t anymore,” He says and sulks with his arms crossed over his chest. He lets out a breath and looks back at Taemin, all messy haired and wrapped in the blankets like a small child. “But seriously Tae, this is a bad neighborhood. Don’t just wait outside the door like that. Call me and I’ll come home early,” He says and snatches the sheets away from the daydreaming boy.

Taemin sits up, trying to grab back at the retreating sheets, but Key bundles them up in his hands and holds them captive.

“Get your butt up and get dressed.”

Taemin huffs as he leans back on his arms. He observes his cousin for a beat until his eyes dance mischievously. “Does this mean I get to raid your closet?”

Key throws his head back. “Hah! You wish. _I’ll_ select your outfit. Go get in the shower. Now!”

Taemin smiles and nods as he pads his way from the bed to the bathroom in only his underwear and a pair of socks. He pushes open the door, but when his hand comes in contact with the metal of the knob, he flinches back.

“Ouch!” He cries.

“What?”

Taemin scrunches his face in pain as he holds his injured hand. “It shocked me!”

Key rolls his eyes. “You’ll live, now go on, your skinny butt is making me jealous.” Key responds as he scans his closet for the least expensive items to let Taemin borrow for the day.

Taemin pouts and proceeds on into the bathroom. He muses that his cousin’s bed isn’t all that comfortable and the apartment’s definitely due for a remodel, but it’s clean and tidy, so Taemin can’t complain. He waits for the water to turn hot before slipping out of his briefs and socks. The heat of the water washes away the sweat from last night, but it also makes his scent fade.

Jongin’s scent, that is.

Taemin smiles dreamily at the memory. When they fell asleep on the prop bed in the practice room, they woke up a couple hours later to Jongin’s preset alarm on his phone. All Taemin could remember were the heavy legs draped over his, the strong arms that cradled his head, and that scent of musky, masculine sweat that wafted from Jongin. It’s like the boy didn’t even need cologne or anything. He seemed to have a naturally appealing smell. Or at least, it appealed to Taemin. Very much so.

But Taemin was brought out of his thoughts when the shower curtain parted slightly and Key poked his head in. “Should I be expecting you later or are you going home tonight?”

Taemin froze. “Um . . . i’m not sure yet,” He replied and quickly rinsed his hair. He stepped out of the shower a minute later and started drying off while Key presented him with a pair of distressed blue jeans and a screen printed Tee, all designer but not as fancy as his other items. And just in case you were wondering, yes, Key even let Taemin borrow a fresh pair of undies.

Taemin dressed quickly and thought aloud. “Mmm . . . I don’t have to work and Jongin said we should rest today, so no dance practice.”

“Oh? Speaking of Mr. Dark and Dangerous . . . you were mumbling his name in your sleep last night.” Key teased as he combed his hair in the bedroom mirror.

Taemin gaped and blushed. “Did not!” He shot back. "And he's beautiful and deadly not dark and dangerous!"

“Taeminnie’s in loooooveeee~” Key cooed, continuing to tease the cute younger.

Taemin pouts as he watches Key’s reflection in the mirror. “Well how would I know?”

“How would you know what?”

“How would I know if I was in love or not? Do you fall in love when you're attracted to someone?”

Key laughs. “Well sure, some people. But attraction isn’t love, it’s lust. There’s a difference.”

Taemin sits on the bed and crosses his legs. “What’s the difference?”

Key pauses and eyes the younger through the mirror. He turns suddenly and joins him on the bed. “I think . . . when you love someone, you’ll do anything for them. Even if it means sacrificing something else in the process.”

“Whoa.” Taemin says, eyes wide and head nodding. It sounded a little too deep. A little too complicated.

“But you can’t love someone properly until you learn to love yourself first.” Key warns. “I learned that the hard way.”

Taemin chuckles. “That sounds hard to believe.”

“What?”

“That _you_ would need to learn how to love yourself. I don’t think I’ve met anyone more in love with themselves than you . . . well aside from Jonghyun probably.”

Key laughs but studies Taemin seriously. “Do you really think you’re falling in love with him?”

Taemin laughs and shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter does it? I mean being in love has to involve two people, right?”

“Well . . . he’s attracted to you. That’s a start.”

Taemin shakes his head as his eyes glaze a little. “He’s . . . attracted to my dancing, to . . . my face, my hair . . . he’s not attracted to me, me.” Taemin says pointing at himself.

Key shakes his head and sighs. Taemin’s always been blind to certain things around him, mainly himself, but Key knows from experience that sometimes people need to find their own way. That no matter how much you tell someone they’re good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, they’ll never believe you. Not until they’re ready. And he’ll be there for Taemin, until he’s ready.

Key reaches out and touches Taemin’s cheek softly, always envious of the soft, chubbiness that has yet to thin out. “I think, the more he gets to know you . . . he’ll either fall madly in love with you, or he’ll want to rip his hair out.”

Taemin looks down and smiles sadly.

 _Or he’ll hate me_.

Is the other option Key failed to say out loud. But Taemin’s practical. He’s not disillusioned to these possibilities.

“Well anyway," Taemin shrugs lightly, “. . . it’s been awhile since I’ve had a free schedule. I don’t even know what to do with myself,” Taemin says, trying to change the subject and to rid himself of this strange fog he suddenly feels surrounding him.

Key’s hand trails away from Taemin’s face. “Well, what did you do before?”

Taemin thinks about it a second and then brightens instantly. “Hey that’s right! I haven’t been to the dance club in a while.”

“Oh right, what did you do with the prize money from last time?”

Taemin falters. “Oh, I . . . I gave some to my mom to help out with the bills.”

Key frowns. “Are you guys having money problems again?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, no more than normal.”

“Your dad’s still working, right?”

Taemin’s brow furrows. “I don’t know. I don’t know what he does.”

“He’s not-“

“Anyway, it’s fine." Taemin cuts in. "I still have some money left over and hey, they might be having another competition soon.”

Key eyes the younger one last time, before deciding not to pry.

Twenty minutes later, the two boys take a ride to the dance club in Key’s vintage hot rod red 1972 Chevy Chevelle. Taemin always calls the car a “pimp mobile” but Key actually got it when he went to the States to visit his grandmother two summers ago. Funnily enough, since he manages a club, it suits him pretty well. They pull up outside the club called “Blue Nights” and Taemin gets out.

Key sticks his head out the window. “Don’t forget to call!” He yells after the younger.

Taemin waves his cousin off and walks in to the club. It’s pretty early, only about 3’clock, so there’s really no one there except Jonghyun and a couple of other workers.

Jonghyun’s wearing a black leather vest and black skinnies and is seated on top of a large speaker on the stage when he sees Taemin bouncing up to him. “Hey long time no see!” He cries as he hops down and hugs the younger.

“Did you miss me?” Taemin asks with a smile.

“Did I miss you? I thought I’d never get rid of you! That coffee shop gig must be going pretty well.” Jonghyun teases back.

Taemin smiles and punches the elder playfully. Jonghyun’s always felt like an older brother to him. So easy to talk to and friendly. “Actually, I finally had some free time so I came by to visit. I hate to admit it, but I kinda missed the place.” Taemin says taking a look around at the black graffiti covered walls.

How many nights had he been here, standing on stage under the spotlight, feeling hundreds of eyes on him, just watching him move to the beat?

Taemin thinks if there’s a difference between lust and love, then dancing on stage has got to be like lust. Because there’s something raw and messy about the stage. There’s no take backs or re-dos, whatever you bring, gets left behind. And it’s that thrill, that danger of just losing it all that keeps you coming back for more. It’s that push and pull with the crowd, when you can’t hear your heart beat over their deafening cries, that makes you feel like you can go past your limits. To a place you’ve never been before. And when you get there, when you finally feel it hit you, it’s like euphoria. It’s quintessentially, like an orgasm.

Taemin giggles at the thought. But then again, if dancing on stage is lust, then what is love?

“Taemin-ah, are you listening?” Jonghyun asks as he pats the younger lightly on the butt.

“Huh?”

Jonghyun laughs. “I said, there’s another dance competition coming up, but it’s not sponsored by the club.”

Taemin frowns. “What is it?”

“You know Jae? The blue haired dancer that lost to you before?”

Taemin cringes at the mention of the guy’s name. “Unfortunately.”

“Well . . . anyway, he’s got connections to this big like public dance thing and he’s been coming here the past couple weekends to see if you’re here. He’s even asked me for your number, which I don’t have and I wouldn’t give him anyway.”

“Well thanks . . . but, what does he want with me?” Taemin asks, confused and curious at the same time.

“Well duh, he wants you to dance in the competition.”

Taemin blanks. “Why?”

Jonghyun shrugs. “To prove he can beat you?”

Taemin laughs. “That’s dumb.”

Jonghyun gives Taemin a knowing look. “I thought you’d say that, but I looked into it anyway. It’s actually not just a simple dance-off, it’s more like a talent search. If you enter and get through a couple different trials, you could get scouted for something big.”

“Wait, you actually want me to enter?”

Jonghyun looks shocked. “Well, yeah you’re good! Why not?”

Taemin laughs. “Don’t you have to pay to audition for things like that?”

“There’s an entry fee, but it’s only $300. You’re a working man now, you can pay that easily, right?” Jonghyun shoots back as he nudges Taemin in the arm.

Taemin shakes his head and blinks as he tries to process what the elder is trying to tell him. A dance competition, talent search, scouting? Something big? “Wait, wait!” He says holding up a hand. “What’s something big?”

Jonghyun twirls his finger in the air, like it’s obvious. “Fame? Fortune? You know . . . all that stuff.”

“Like money? Actual money?”

“Well sure. Don’t you get it? If you get picked, you could get paid to do what you love. You could buy a car, get your own apartment.”

Taemin stares at Jonghyun, wide eyes and mouth open. He could move out? He could make enough money to help out his mother and brother? He could . . . do what he loves? Taemin looks down at his suddenly shaking hands. It all sounds too good to be true, and it probably is. He knows he has talent but he doesn’t know if he’s good enough. He’s never tried to be better than someone else.

But what if?

Taemin looks back up and grabs Jonghyun’s hands. “When do I have to have the money by?”

Jonghyun smiles. “Tomorrow.”

Taemin inhales sharply. “Tomorrow?!”

Jonghyun searches Taemin’s eyes, confused. “What, no good?”

Taemin looks down. “Um . . . no, I can probably make it work. I just have to go home to get the money.”

Jonghyun smiles and squeezes Taemin’s shoulders. “I know you’re gonna do really well.”

After all that, Taemin hangs around the club looking for anything to do until it opens around 7pm. He sits back and listens to the music, even dances randomly by himself. He knows he can stay here and get lost in the hypnotic rhythm or caught in the spell of the bass, but two hours later when Taemin finds himself sneaking into his own house through his bedroom window, he knows he isn’t dreaming.

His bedroom’s dark when Taemin pulls himself up and over the ledge of the window. His hands touch the floor and he crawls forward until his legs slip inside. They land against the hard wooden floor a little too roughly, and Taemin hisses under his breath from the pain.

And suddenly there’s a click. The bedside lamp turns on, and the room is illuminated.

Taemin looks up and stills.

“Is that you?”

Taemin swallows as he scrambles to his feet. His father. His father’s in his room. The man is taller than Taemin and definitely heavier. He has cropped short black hair that he’s kept that way since he went to the Army. He looks . . . surprisingly the same. But why was his father sitting all alone in the dark? Sitting all alone in the dark in his bedroom?

Taemin grabs his elbow, feeling that anxious itch starting to crawl down his skin. What the hell was he supposed to do now? How long had it been? A few months?

Taemin looks all around the room, uncomfortable under his father’s stare. “H-how have you been?” Taemin asks softly.

Taemin’s father stares at the boy from his spot on the bed. The son that he hadn’t seen in months. Different from his other son. So very different. Dressed in pants that were too tight and his hair that was too long. He frowned deeply. 

Taemin watches his father’s eyes start to glaze. He knows what that means. Episodes, is what his mom calls them. He can't help it, he doesn't mean it, she always says. But when Taemin tried putting on makeup for the first time, his father had grabbed him by the hair and almost drowned him in the bathtub. Repeatedly dunking his head under the water screaming for the devil to leave his son. Screaming at the devil for making his son gay. Taemin swallows and forces his heavy legs to move forward, towards the closed door, looking for an escape.

“Stop it!” His father yells suddenly, grabbing his head in pain and Taemin knows he's gone. He can only hear the voices in his head, but he freezes in place as if he’s just been shot. And suddenly the door to his bedroom opens and his mother’s standing in the doorway. She takes one look at Taemin’s still figure and drops the towel in her hand.

“Wha-“ She starts but can’t seem to form the words or the question but Taemin knows. He can see it in her eyes. _Why Taemin, Why? Why did you come home?_

“I . . . I just came back to get my money,” Taemin says helplessly.

“ _Your_ money!” Taemin’s father bellows as he stands from the bed.

Taemin takes in a deep breath. “Yes. My money. It’s . . . It’s in the bedside table.” He says.

Nobody moves, nobody even breathes as Taemin watches his father turn towards the table and stare at it. “Show me,” He says.

Taemin takes a cautious glance at his mother, whose still standing in the doorway, her eyes wide and fearful. She has no idea what to do, he can tell. Taemin gathers his wits and slowly walks over to his bedside table. He keeps any extra money in a Spiderman tin, the one his father gave him when he was six. Back when things were normal. 

Taemin’s father watches his son walk closer to him. The baggy shirt he’s wearing looks a size or two too big. One of the sides is starting to droop revealing a bony collarbone. “Is my son still gay?” The elder questions in a cold whisper, causing Taemin to flinch and stop once again.

“Please, just let me get my money and then I’ll go,” Taemin pleads.

"No, no, no, no, no!" The elder screams, eyes widening in fear. There's no rationality in madness. Only an inner truth. 

And then suddenly his father reaches up and grabs Taemin’s wrist. So hard, Taemin’s knees buckle and he falls to the floor. “You’re hurting me,” He whimpers as he searches his father’s suddenly sad eyes. 

“Why, why are you doing this to me?” The elder questions, his eyes starting to brim with tears.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to!” 

“Liar!” He yells, his hands moving to shake Taemin’s thin shoulders. “You mean to make a fool out of me, do you?!”

“No! Never! I love you!” Taemin cries.

Suddenly his father stills. He takes Taemin’s hands into his, his eyes searching his son’s. He frowns. “You . . . love me?”

Taemin then feels his father’s hands reach up to cup his cheeks. His dark eyes searching his. “You love me?” He asks again.

Taemin stares back, feeling a swirl of many things, yet he can’t make sense of any of them. He knows he’s not that bright. He knows he can’t read certain situations, but this is all he can do. He can't do anything else.

“Of course. You’re my father.”

“You’re father . . .” The elder repeats. Then he blinks and it’s like he’s snapped out of a trance. “That’s right,” He says slowly as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pocket knife. "But you're not my son."

Taemin’s mother lets out a cry as she rushes forward towards her son and husband.

“Don’t! I know you’re apart of this too! You think you can break me, huh?! You think I’m a fool?!”

“No! Please!” His mother cries, shaking her head furiously.

Taemin’s father grabs Taemin by a fistful of his hair. “All I’ve ever done was try to be good to you. And yet you mock me every chance you get! With this hair! These clothes! You think I’m blind?!”

Taemin shakes his head and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. This is what he’s been trying to avoid.

His father leans in, until Taemin can feel the breath against his ear and smell the odor on his breath. “I hate everything about you,” He whispers, his voice like shards of glass, ripping through Taemin’s heart. “Especially. . . your tiny, delicate little bones. You don’t fool me, Lee Taemin.”

Taemin keeps his closed eyes shut, trying to block it all out. Just ignore it, it’ll be over soon. He tries to think about something else. Anything. And surprisingly, he thinks about Jongin.

_For me, the more my parents pull me in, the more I push back._

_Why? Why do you push back?_

_Cause I’ve got something to prove._

_But what if you don’t know what you’re pushing up against? What if you don’t know what you’re doing wrong?_

_We always have something we need to prove, don’t we?”_

But I can't change who I am. I can't deny my real self. I have nothing to prove. Taemin opens his eyes, surprisingly resolute. Maybe it's because this reality, is one he has come to accept. 

Taemin is thrown to the floor.

His face comes into harsh contact with the wooden floor of his bedroom. But just as soon as he winces from the pain in his forehead, his hair is grabbed again and his head is pulled back, neck extended so far he thinks it might snap.

His mother rushes forward again, desperate and crying. She tries to shove her husband off of her son, but it’s futile. The stronger man reaches up and slaps her hard across the face. She falls to the floor right next to her son and sees the glint of the pocket knife as her husband raises it in the air.

And this is where it ends, with Taemin lying face down on the floor as his heart beats out of his chest. Sweat drips down his temple as his head is pulled back by his hair, gripped tightly in his father’s fist. He can feel the elder’s knees as they press harshly into his back, crushing him against the hard wood. He sees his mother fall to the floor, grasping her cheek and tears flowing down her face. She screams as his father raises his knife into the air, intent on cutting the boy below him.

And it’s in this moment, while the knife comes down, that Taemin knows . . .

This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
